#a quiet place day one imagine

[localemofreak]

There’s Just No Time To Die.

(AQP Eric x fem!reader)

Based on this song:

No Time To Die - Billie Eilish

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(Just a little heads up- I made this fic before the trailer or anything about AQP Day One came out- literally I found out Joe’s characters name and that was it- but please enjoy lmao)

‼️Warnings‼️: HEAVY ANGST, a little bit of fluff but mostly angst, major character death, pure sad shit, no happy ending, etc. (if I forgot anything please tell me)

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You never expected this to happen.

Yeah that random shower thought has come up before- ‘what would happen if something invaded earth??’

But you never expected it to happen..

It had been a few days since those ‘creatures’ crashed onto earth- and you were doing your best to survive with the small group of people you were with.

One of those people in that group was a man named Eric, he had saved your life the day those things came- even though you couldn't talk, you had gotten to know each other well over the past few days.

And the more you got to know each other, the more it was obvious that your relationship was more than just some people working together to survive- or possibly even more than friends..

-FLASHBACK-

It was the day those aliens came to earth, you had just gotten off work and you were walking down the busy sidewalks of New York, just like any other boring day.

As you were walking, there was a sound in the sky, the city just seemed to just freeze for a moment- it confused you at first, but then you glanced up at the sky.

Something was shooting through the sky- and it wasn't a meteor.

Without even another second of thought being able to come through your mind, everything just seemed to turn into terror.

Floods of people had started screaming and running as this disturbing creature started ripping through cars and people, causing full chaos to blow out.

You just froze for a second, watching all these people and objects getting ripped apart- which only caused more people to scream.

It just seemed to be going after any sound.

Finally after just standing there frozen in shock- you seemed to snap out of it and started running like everyone else, you were just in too much shock to even make a noise, right now you just had to get out of there.

While you were running, trying to get away from those strange creatures- you felt someone grab onto your arm and yank you towards them, their hand automatically going over your mouth which instantly caused you to stark panicking.

Your screams were muffled thanks to the hand over your mouth, silencing you while you were quickly dragged you into a building.

Everything just seemed to happen so quickly, but you had managed to glance around your surroundings- it looked like a little book shop you were dragged in, books and other random shit scattered on the floor slightly from the instant chaos and panic.

You just continued to try and break out of the strangers arms while humming into their hand, which didn’t do anything at all.

Soon enough you were quickly dragged behind a counter- your breathing was heavy and quick into the strangers hand as you looked up at them in panic, noticing how they brought their finger to their lips, signaling for you to be quiet.

After a second you had finally stopped humming into the person’s hand, your breathing still quick as you glanced around, adrenaline just running through your veins.

You had slowly turned your gaze back to the person who practically saved your life after a moment.

It was a man- he had short curly hair, beautiful brown doe eyes that were filled with fear and panic as well and he was wearing a brown suit.

As you continued to look up at the random man who was glancing around the store, your ears were filled with the sound of screams and crashing from outside the building and on the street.

You glanced around once again, seeing people quietly hiding under tables in panic as these strange ‘creatures’ seems to rip the city apart.

Soon- all the sudden, there was silence.

For the first time in forever, New York City was quiet.

You could hear the quiet, shaky sigh of relief fall from the man’s lips- causing you to quickly shoot your wide eyes back to look at him, his hand still over your mouth as he crouched hidden in front of you.

"What the hell was that?!" One person yelled in the shop, causing your eyes to quickly move over to the person.

Before anyone could actually react- one of those creatures came bursting in, breaking the front wall of the building as it started ripping up the place.

Out of instinct, you just quickly shut your wide eyes and put your hands over your ears as the man's hand on your mouth got rougher- trying to make sure you didn’t make any sounds.

As the little shop continued to basically get ripped apart- you felt the random man’s strong arm pull you into his side, pulling you into the corner of the counter with him.

His body basically covered yours, using himself as a human shield to try and protect you- as well as himself as this monster just continued to cause terror.

You just wanted to scream, but you couldn't- you couldn’t get yourself to let out a single noise.

Finally, after a moment you suddenly felt yourself getting pulled up from the ground, which caused you to finally open your eyes.

The man moved his hand on your mouth to your hand as he quickly dragged you out of the store, running into the street to get away.

While running with the man you glanced around, there was more creatures- you couldn't even count how many, it didn't matter at that moment, you had to get shelter.

Soon enough, the man quickly yanked you into another small shop with you, quickly closing the door behind him and locking it so nobody could come in.

As you and the stranger glanced around, you noticed there was only two other people in that small shop and they were hidden behind tables, their eyes also wide with fear.

The man who saved your life was still holding your hand as he looked over at them- his breathing heavy as he just stood them for a moment staring at them, before finally putting his shaking finger up to his lips.

As he quickly pulled you to hide behind something with him- you were all were dead quiet, just waiting for the chaos to go down.

You were all strangers to each other, but at that moment, without saying a single word you all knew you guys had to work together- to survive whatever this was.

-FLASHBACK OVER-

It had been a few days, New York was still quiet and it honestly looked apocalyptic at this point.

Everybody had either fled the city or died when the creatures attacked- and you guys were planning on fleeing soon as well.

While you and the rest of your small group had started working together to survive and escape the city- you had managed to find out the stranger’s name who saved your life.

His name was Eric.

Right now, you and Eric had decided to go out, to try and get some more materials- you had both been walking the streets for a little bit before you ended up in the middle of a little shopping center.

It was obviously abandoned, nobody seen in sight- you and Eric were in the middle of the little center, walking around a dried up fountain.

Eric had his eyes open, glancing around inside empty abandoned stores while you decided to take a seat on the fountain’s edge- your legs tired from all the walking.

You both were just there, staying quiet when all the sudden you both heard something.

It was almost like a clicking/quiet screeching sound.

In panic you and Eric both froze, your wide eyes looking into his- you and him instantly knew what it was, and you both knew you had to get out immediately.

Eric had quietly motioned for you to follow him, causing you to stand up slowly before you both started quietly but quickly making your way to the large entrance of a Macy's since it was the only exit, away from the area that the sound obviously came from.

Everything seemed to be alright, you both weren’t making any noises- but as you took another step, your foot tripped over a wire- it was a trap.

You instantly both looked at each other with wide, panicked eyes.

A loud clatter was made by cans that fell from the trap- you both seemed like you were both just frozen in fear.

"Run.." Eric whispered out with wide eyes, grabbing onto your hand.

Before you even knew it, you both were sprinting down the hall of the mall, the strange creature quickly following behind while tearing apart and throwing everything in its way to the side

You mind started racing as you ran, you instantly knew there was no way out without making it out alive, but your mind also just forced you to think you could- you and Eric both could just quickly make it out of there.

As you continued to sprint hand in hand with him, monster was catching up- but you were so close to an exit.

Right as you were about to hit the exit, the creature just seemed to appear besides you and Eric out of nowhere, quickly jumping up to get at you.

Eric’s reflexes were quick enough to save you because he instantly just tackled you down to the side, pushing you and him out of the way and onto the ground with quiet little grunts.

You were on the ground for a second, Eric on top of you as you both let out quiet but heavy breaths.

Your wide eyes glanced up at him as he hovered over you, both your chest heaving up and down from the adrenaline as his wide eyes looked down into yours.

Soon enough, Eric had managed to quickly pull you behind a glass counter- the creature lurking and blocking the only exit nearby.

You slowly turned your gaze to look over at Eric, your breathing still heavy- but he was already looking at you, and there was a soft look in his eyes.. you instantly knew the look.

You just instantly started shaking your head, your eyes already filling up with tears as you tried to stay as quiet as possible.

"Please- no..." You mouthed to him, but he just nodded his head, the soft look still in his eyes while you brought your gaze down.

Tears were already starting to slowly spill down your cheeks, his hand slowly moved up to cup the side of your face as he gently made you look back up at him, his thumb wiping away the tears as you both made eye contact

"You need to run okay.." he mouthed- you just shook your head once again, letting out silent sobs while he continued to hold your face.

You were refusing to let him sacrifice himself for you, you couldn’t live on knowing that without the guilt eating you alive.

As you sat there with Eric, both looking into each other’s eyes- you had finally realized how close both your faces have gotten, so close to the point you could feel his shaky breath over your lips.

Soon enough, his lips were on yours in a soft but also passionate kiss.

You instantly kissed back, his hand still holding onto the side of your head as your hand moved up to gently grasp onto his wrist while he held your face.

Even though both of your eyes were closed, your tears were starting to slowly fall onto his cheeks, mixing with his small tears as he had started to cry as well.

After a moment, he finally slowly pulled away, continuing to cup your face as he looked into your eyes, giving a sad reassuring smile.

You already missed the feeling of his lips as soon as he pulled away, your tear filled eyes looking up into his as you continued to hold onto his wrist.

"I love you.." He mouthed, looking into your eyes as he wiped more tears from your face before slowly pulling his hand away, causing your light grip on his wrist to slowly fall.

"I love you too.." you mouthed back, both of your hands moving to hold onto his face- just not wanting him to leave you.

But Eric shook his head and slowly pulled your hands away slowly, holding onto both of your wrists as he placed small kisses in the palm of your hand while sitting there with you.

It all seemed to happen in slow mo as you quickly shook your head while he started slowly letting go of your hands, moving them onto your lap as he started standing up.

Silent sobs started escaping from you once again as he quickly ran out from behind the glass counter, running out of the department store and back into the mall.

"Hey- come get me you son of a bitch! Come on!!" He yelled out, causing the creature to instantly sprint out of the area you were hiding in.

You had slowly stood up from behind the counter, your eyes wider than they have ever been as you watched as the creature quickly run after Eric.

You just froze as you watched it basically start ripping him into shreds in front of your eyes, his screams of pain filling your ringing ears before it went silent- the only sound being the creature and the ringing in your ears

Your heart just dropped into your stomach right there- you didn’t even know what you were feeling, it was worst than any pain you ever felt- it just felt like everything inside of you collapsed, your brain felt numb and everything stung inside and outside of you.

Tears streamed down your face before finally- you had gotten yourself to move and made a run for it, running out of the exit even though your legs felt like they just wanted to give out.

You just wanted to scream at that moment, you didn’t find a purpose in trying to survive anymore without Eric- but you knew you had too, it was what he would have wanted, it IS what he wanted.

You just continued running away, leaving behind the man who not only saved your life, but sacrificed himself for you.

[corroded-hellfire]

Summary: You help Eric through an anxiety attack

Note: Obsessed with Eric and I need to protect him from the world, please and thank you. Also, Frodo divider created by me 😊

Warnings: anxiety, panic

Words: 1.5k

The carved out hull of the decimated subway car offers little in the way of protection, but with the power out it seems likely not to cause any unwarranted noise. 

Eric ushers you in before himself, the light from the fluorescents of the station giving the two of you just enough to see by. The seats and bent handrails cast gruesome shadows across the small space, and you decide to take advantage of one particularly large pocket of darkness in the corner. 

Your back presses up against the cool metal, dented from God only knows what. Slowly, you slide down to the floor and Eric lowers himself down beside you. Both of you are caked with dirt and there’s blood smeared against one leg of your jeans. Luckily, it doesn’t seem to belong to either one of you. 

A steady stream of water is somewhere near, the comforting sound letting you breathe just a little easier. Eric must feel the same because he dares to lean in towards you and speak softly.

“Are you okay?”

Never did that seem more complex of a question. You’re not okay in the grand scheme of things, but you’re currently still alive and, for the most part, unharmed. 

“I think so,” you whisper in reply. “Are you?”

Eric nods, rubbing his hands up and down his shins, the worn brown material wearing even thinner in a few spots now. 

The two of you were fortunate to run into one another in an alleyway between two buildings—the only stroke of luck either of you have had lately. A natural ease quickly proved that you worked well together and seeing as neither of you wanted to be alone, the choice was obvious. 

Even though it’s only been roughly twenty-four hours since you’ve met, with all you’ve been through in that time, it feels as if you’ve known Eric for ages. There was no denying how cute he was either, but your brain barely had time for fleeting thoughts like that when your focus is on staying alive. 

“How’s your hand?” Eric asks.

You look at the offending appendage, purple from bruising, slightly swollen, and throbbing. Though, it’s slightly better since you’d found that bodega and swiped all the Tylenol and ibuprofen they had. 

During the initial chaos of the invasion—is that what to call it? —your back was up against the brick wall of an apartment building and a man was sent hurtling in the air towards you. Your hand had the misfortune to get crushed between the high velocity man and the brick wall. Ever since you’ve met Eric, he’s been helping you wrap your hand and always checking in on it. 

“It’s sore,” you admit. 

“Let me see?” Eric extends his hand.

Taking a deep breath, you place your injured hand in his. 

Warm, calloused fingers undo the binding currently covering the wound and toss them to the subway floor. It feels nice to let your hand breathe a bit, get some air. With just a featherlight touch, Eric traces his index finger around the mottled skin. The delicate touch sends goosebumps up your arm. If he notices them, he doesn’t say. 

A sense of disappointment fills your gut when he releases your hand to get fresh bandages. You chew on your chapped bottom lip as you watch Eric rummage through the Phantom of the Opera tote bag you’d snagged from one of those tourist gift shops. 

He sprays a bit of disinfectant spray on your hand, the mist feeling doubly cold after having the warmth of his large hand enveloping yours. Next comes a fresh bandage. Eric always applies them so carefully, making sure it’s not too tight but gives your hand some support. You watch him as he works, your eyes taking in the small details of his face while he’s busy focusing on something else.

His dark eyelashes are so long that they kiss his cheeks with every blink. The curls on the top of his head are messy from everything they’ve been through, but it’s unkempt in a charming way. It amazes you how dry his lips are from dehydration, yet they still look so pink and inviting. 

Eric secures the bandage on your hand, and you momentarily move on to admiring the color and depth of his eyes when you realize he’s finished and no longer distracted. 

Heat comes to your face, so you lift your injury up to inspect it, hoping to give you a minute to cool down. 

“Thank you,” you whisper when you lay your hand back down in your lap. 

“Of course.”

The good thing about needing to keep quiet during all of this is that none of the silences could be interpreted as awkward. It’s just self-preservation. 

It goes on that way for about ten minutes before you feel your head get heavy and decide to lean it against Eric’s shoulder. It’s not long before he gently rests his head on top of yours. Despite the circumstances around you, a small smile grows on your lips.

But your peace doesn’t last long. A groaning of metal and the now too-familiar skittering of legs or pincers or whatever they’re called. 

By the sound of it, you guess that the creature is coming from your left, somewhere down the subway track. But there’s no reason for it to know you’re here. As long as you can remain quiet, the monster should just pass you by without trouble. 

A hitch in breath from beside you grabs your attention though. Your head jerks in the direction of Eric to find his breathing speed up and his eyes widen in that recognizable panic. 

Pressing one hand to his shoulder, you get his attention and his head whips to face you. With your other, injured hand, you hold up a finger to your mouth for him to stay quiet.

Eric nods but the rate of his breathing only increases. You shake your head and lean in towards him. 

“Breathe.” The words could barely be considered a full whisper. 

You’ve helped him through these anxiety attacks a few times now so you try to tell yourself you can do it again. You can’t blame the poor guy for being so scared, either. 

The clicking of the approaching monster comes closer then stops. It feels as if time pauses while you wait to see what will happen now. 

Smashing the play button, the creature falls from where it must have been crawling on the ceiling, to land on the subway platform.

Eric jumps and you see his teeth clench together as he tries to keep the panic at bay. 

Step by crunching step, the being stalks closer to your subway car. Even though it can’t see you, instinct tells you to get further out of sight.

As silently as possible, you scoot over so there’s enough room for you to lay flat on the floor of the car. Eric glances down at you and you motion for him to do the same. He gives you a quick nod and with shaking hands, moves to lay down next to you.

Within the cramped space it’s hard for two adults to lay flat, side by side, so Eric ends up on his side, facing you. If you turned your head to look at him, your noses would brush. 

One long black limb stretches out from the creature and crushes a piece of metal right outside your car—probably the remains of an adjoining car. 

Eric’s anxiety spikes again and before you can think about it, you wrap your arm around his shoulders and bring his body down on top of yours. 

It’s not the most comfortable angle for either of you, almost awkward. But Eric wastes no time grabbing onto your waist, his head falling to the juncture between your neck and shoulder. 

Consciously, you slow your breathing down in hopes that Eric’s will follow your lead. 

Another crunch of metal rents the air and you both jump, clinging tighter to one another. Eric’s grip on your body changed positions slightly, and now his head is resting right over your heart. 

You glance down and watch as Eric visibly calms. He takes a few deep breaths and lets his eyes slip closed as he lays against you. 

It takes you a few moments to realize what caused the change. Eric’s head is on its side, his right ear directly over your heart. He’s listening to your heartbeat. And it’s calming him. The thought alone makes your heart rate speed up. 

Slowly, you reach up and gently rest your hand in his hair. He tilts his chin up so he can see your face and you give him a small smile. The one he gives you in return brings forward the confidence to begin running your fingers through Eric’s soft curls. 

The two of you stay that way, listening as the creature moves farther and farther away, until you can’t hear it at all anymore.

But even then, after the immediate threat is gone and everything seems peaceful and calm around you, you both still stay that way. His hands holding onto your body, his head over your heart, and you carding your fingers through his curls. 

Maybe this subway car is a better place to be than you originally thought. 

[whatsupsonnyboy]

Drunk in my mind | Joseph Quinn

PAIRING: Joseph Quinn x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Joe and you (actress!reader) met during the filming of a romantic thriller, you two struggle to keep your undeniable chemistry professional. But when intimate scenes push your limits, the line between acting and reality begins to blur.

wc: 5.9K

warning: fluff, slow burn, co-stars to friends, friends to lovers, mentions of sex, swearing, overthinking, angst

a/n: heeeeeey, i know it's been ages, so sorry, but you know how life could be! anyway, i recently got lot of free time so i decided to pick up writing this precious man. This one just got on my mind while listening a podcast, originally it was going to be a one shot... looks like it's gonna be more parts to this! Hope you enjoy it 😌

Feedback is welcomed <3

request are open  | masterlist

part I | part II | part III

He was feeling really excited about the whole thing. The whole project was kind of a dream if he was honest, the story was captivating, the arc of his character was interesting and challenging and the chance to work with Mark as a director was more than anything he could have dreamt of. He felt like the whole universe was playing on his favour, as if it was saying “hey, here you have, you deserve it”, and that could only make him feel grateful and lucky. 

He had known since the very first moment he accepted the role who his co-star was going to be. He remembered how worked up he felt—the incredible chance to work with such a talented and young actress, someone with that kind of range. It was exciting, a little intimidating even. The thought of it made his heart race a bit. So when the two of you finally met, he couldn’t help but like you instantly.

And he had noticed that you liked him too. The chemistry between you two was undeniable, something neither of you had tried to hide. It wasn’t just about the physical attraction, though there was plenty of that. No, it was something deeper, a connection that he couldn’t quite put into words. There was an admiration there, something rooted in the way you thought, how you carried yourself, your mind… it fascinated him. And he felt that same spark from you, even if neither of you dared to acknowledge it fully. In an environment like that—so close, yet so professional—it was delicate. Neither of you wanted to be the first to cross a line that could jeopardize everything.

The first few days of filming were a blur of getting to know each other on screen, but it didn’t take long before it was clear you two clicked on a deeper level. Not even two weeks into the filming, and you had found yourselves spending almost all your breaks together. The quiet moments during meals, those late-night chats after a long day of work, felt like they meant something more than just passing time. You'd wander around the city on free days, both of you enjoying the shared silence between laughter and conversations that didn’t always make sense, but that somehow felt significant.

Joe would sometimes catch himself watching you when you weren’t looking, studying the way your eyes lit up when you spoke about something you were passionate about. He’d love to listen to you for hours, about everything and nothing, and that feeling of connection lingered in the air between you. The way you made him feel heard, understood… it was rare. And judging by the way your gaze would linger on him, he could tell you felt the same.

But there was always that unspoken tension—the fragile balance between admiration and attraction, and the fear that crossing that line would change everything. Especially there, in that professional environment, where neither of you could afford to lose focus.

The more time he spent with you, the more he liked you. He found himself continually impressed by the way you worked—the passion you poured into every scene, the incredible talent you demonstrated even in the smallest moments. It wasn’t just your skill; it was your intensity, your energy, the way you approached everything with such genuine depth that it left him captivated. He couldn’t recall ever feeling that way about anyone else. Sure, he had admired colleagues before—he could still remember how stunned he had felt working with Denzel back in Gladiator, or the first time he shared a scene with Lupita. But none of that compared to what he felt now. This was something different, something unexplainable. And it was delightful. Getting to do a romance thriller for the first time while working with someone like you made everything feel effortless.

He found himself looking forward to every scene with you, not just because of the professional challenge but because of how naturally the two of you clicked. You seemed to challenge him in the best way, pushing him to reach new emotional depths, yet there was always this lightness between you both that made working together seem easy.

He had even forgotten about the sex scenes —the very thing that had made him hesitate when he first agreed to the movie. He had done intimate scenes before, of course, but this was different. When he had read the script, he had known it would be a whole new level of vulnerability. But as the filming drew closer, it felt almost like an inevitable tension was building between you two. It wasn’t just physical; it was mental, emotional, a strange but undeniable connection he couldn’t quite put into words.

Edith, the intimacy coordinator, had talked to both of you, together and separately, several times already. At first, it had made him feel calm, safe, almost like everything was under control. But the more time he spent with you, the more that sense of control started to slip away.

The idea of the two of you being semi-naked on a bed, pretending to have sex, sent a shiver down his spine. Not a bad one, not a good one either. No, it was something far more complicated. It felt… unprofessional, and yet it was so much more than that. The goosebumps that had run through him when you kissed him during the first take a few days ago… they had lingered. The memory of that kiss wasn’t just physical; it had settled deep in his stomach, making him question everything. And the worst part? He was afraid to be the only one who felt it.

He couldn’t let this happen. He liked you, of course… as an actress, as a co-worker, as a friend even. But that was all, right? He couldn't allow his body to suddenly want you in a way that went beyond professional respect. Oh God, he was feeling ridiculous. He was supposed to be a professional, and that’s how it had to stay. But how the hell was he supposed to act casual about you being above him, with nothing but a thin piece of cloth separating your bodies? Your breasts close to his face as your eyes locked with his, looking at him as if he was the only man in the world. How was he supposed to resist that?

He could certainly tell the difference between reality and acting. But how was he supposed to teach his body that distinction? The worst part was the guilt. Guilt because of how unprofessional he felt. Guilt because he had let this go so far without acknowledging what was happening inside of him. It had been so easy to let his guard down around you. He had felt so comfortable with you from the start, so at ease in your presence, that he hadn’t even stopped to question his own feelings. Now it felt like he’d jumped into this situation without looking at the consequences.

But now it was too late to undo those feelings. The scenes were scheduled to start early next week, and he had no idea how to handle this newfound tension between you. How was he supposed to manage those feelings—this raw attraction—within the next two days? He didn’t know if he could control it. Production had given the entire crew the weekend off, and he was left with two options: spend the weekend with you, in town, facing the intensity of his growing feelings, or retreat to London and try to pretend none of it existed.

He could already feel how difficult it would be to run away from this. Because it somehow felt like he was running, but taking a little space felt like the best, he could still book a flight, go back home and try to clear his head. Joe wasn’t sure that it would work, but at least he had to give it a try. 

It wasn’t something weird of you to appear out of nowhere in his hotel room with a pretty nice plan that would immediately convince him to get out of the hotel. But that night he was going to force himself to do things right. 

“What do you mean you can't?” you asked in a laugh. 

Joe tried to stop you at the door, but it was worthless. He couldn’t even articulate a word at the look you gave him as you made your way in his room. 

“You leaving?” you asked then. “Where you off to?” 

You looked at the carry-on luggage on the bed. All what he needed for a weekend out was already packed. 

“Home” Joe simply answered and the inquiring look in your eyes made him go on. “I thought it’d be nice to see my mum and friends”. 

“Oh, I see”.

You seemed disappointed, and Joe felt like there was something else you wanted to say so he remained silent. 

You didn't. 

“I’ll be here on Sunday night”.

Why had he said that? It felt like he was explaining himself, he needn’t, you hadn’t asked for it either. 

“Have a good weekend Joe” you said, with fake sympathy and left the room afterwards.

He couldn’t explain how awful he felt the moment he heard the door closing, or even why he was feeling that way. But he was not going to stay and figure it out, he would let that to Monday Joe. 

-

You couldn’t understand a single thing. It was nonsense. One day he would treat you like you were the most beautiful and fascinating creature in the entire planet, the next, he would run back to London without a single explanation. Not that he owed you one, because you two were nothing but co-workers. Explanations were for people who were romantically involved, weren’t they? And Joe and you were nothing like that. 

Because spending every single moment of your free time with him didn’t mean you felt anything for each other. It just meant, you liked each other, as co-workers. You just enjoyed each other's company in a job environment full of unknown people. 

It was nice to have him around. Somehow, it made you feel like you were just hanging out with someone you hadn’t seen in a while, as if your paths had crossed before, in another time, another place. Talking to him about anything felt effortless, like catching up with an old friend, which was a rare gift. He had that gift.

You had heard the rumors, of course you had. Almost everyone who had come across Joseph Quinn always used the same words: “nicest of the guys,” “damn funny,” “witty sense of humor,” and “incredibly sensitive.” And all of them were spot on. But it was more than that. You couldn’t help but admire how much he made you feel seen, how, despite the attention and praise that followed him, he managed to make you feel like you were the only one in the room when you spoke.

At first, you were simply delighted by how everything had aligned so perfectly. The chance to film a movie with Mark, one of the most promising directors in the current industry, was already a dream come true. And then there was Joseph Quinn, the charming, talented British actor whose reputation had already preceded him. From the very beginning, everything was going better than expected. Mark’s direction was an experience in itself—eccentric and demanding, but exciting and fulfilling all the same. But Joe… Joe was everything you could’ve dreamed of and more.

From the moment Heather, the casting director, introduced you to him, you felt a spark. That dreamy look in his eyes, the sunglasses perched atop his head, holding back the honey curls that were starting to grow long again, and that stupid, adorable accent that made your heart skip a beat. He was effortlessly charming, but it wasn’t just his looks or the humor he carried so naturally; it was the way he made you feel at ease, the way he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know you, listening to you as if your thoughts were as valuable as his own.

You could clearly remember the way your stomach flipped the first time he asked you how you were feeling after the first day of shooting. You had felt terrible, after a night of no sleep. Leaving home for a long time was always kind of torturous, especially when it meant sleeping in a bed that wasn’t yours. Such a small, silly thing, yet it had made everything feel off.

But you were sure your lack of sleep and the consequent irritability had gone unnoticed. Or at least you had thought so, until Joe insisted that something was wrong. You hadn’t expected him to notice —especially not so early, not after just one day of filming. But he had, and the way he looked at you, like he really cared, made you feel like you owed him a little real kindness in return. After all, he was the only one who’d truly seen through your facade, despite all your efforts to hide how miserable you were feeling that day.

You two had ended up in his room, ordering the fanciest food you could find on the service menu, and watching the first Netflix blockbuster you both could find on the smart TV. There was something calming about it.

You had fallen asleep quickly, almost immediately after a few spoonfuls of the seafood rice Joe had ordered. The need for rest was bigger than your hunger. And strangely, falling asleep in Joe’s bed had been incredibly easy, a stark contrast to the nightmare it had been to even try to fall asleep in your own room the night before. Maybe it was just exhaustion, maybe your body was begging for rest—maybe it was the warmth and scent of him next to you that made it feel like you were safe, like you weren’t alone in this strange place.

You remembered waking up to the sound of Joe’s alarm blaring, and the embarrassment quickly rushed through your body as you realized you had fallen asleep in the bed of a stranger who also happened to be your co-star. It felt like the worst possible thing in the world at that moment, but Joe didn’t seem to care at all. He emerged from the other side of the room, where there was a sofa-bed, and you realized he must have let you sleep alone while he stayed there, keeping his distance. His smile when he looked at you was warm and soft, the kind of smile that made you feel... something you couldn’t quite name. He asked if you had a good night, and you could only nod, still blushing a little, but now, with a hint of warmth spreading in your chest.

However, the night he disappeared you weren’t feeling delighted at all. You had almost felt abandoned. Absurd, you knew, but couldn’t help it. And that really pissed you off. Because you didn’t even have the right to feel like that. Joe was just your co-star, your almost friend maybe. So all the rage and the frustration were useless. 

You didn’t want to waste more time feeling like that, and you knew that if you stayed at the hotel the whole weekend, it would turn into endless hours of overthinking. So you fixed yourself internally, as if you had just gotten up from a fall and texted Sam. 

She was one of the supporting actors in the films, and she was really nice and fun. She loved being out so it meant you’d probably get no rest for the next 48 hours, but that was better than to go over and over the same thoughts in the loneliness of your hotel room. Alcohol and loud music seemed like a better choice.  

-

It hadn’t worked. He knew it the moment he was back to the filming location, he probably had known a long before he entered his hotel room, but opening the door of the suite made it land hard on his chest. There was that feeling all again, as it had never left, just had gone undercovered for a few hours. The terrible urge to go running to your room and kiss you, hold you, run his fingers through your hair as you rested your head on his chest. 

He was done. He was finished. All the repressed feelings and unsaid words were pressing on his chest like a ton of rocks, making it hard to think, to breathe. It was like the world had shrunk, and all that mattered was this impossible attraction, this desperate need to be near you. He couldn’t even remember feeling this helpless about anyone before. It was almost unbearable. 

He hadn’t said a word about it back home, maybe he should have talked about it with a friend, could have helped… but he had been so determined to be distracted about the whole thing, that going over the matter hadn’t really been an option. It had probably been a childish choice, but regretting it then, in the loneliness of his hotel room, within a few hours to go and face reality, was pointless. 

Someone was knocking the door just a couple hours after he had finally been able to fall asleep. Getting to sleep decently had turned into an impossible mission with hundreds of intrusive thoughts constantly hunting his mind. And now, he would not only feel miserable, he would look like it too. Edith instantly pointed it out the moment he opened the door. Not helping at all. 

She was there to talk to him before getting to the set, Joe knew she was going to be there, he also knew he was going to talk to you after. Another talk for you two was awaiting the moment before entering the set. So he kind of knew he could still do something… maybe he could talk about how not exactly comfortable he was feeling about the sex scenes, but how was he supposed to do that. First, those scenes weren’t exactly the problem. Second, then what? What was he expecting to happen? 

Joe ran again through every single fake scenario that had haunted him for the last weeks while he was showering and getting ready. Edith was waiting in the living area of the suite, and as soon as he heard Joe out of the bathroom she started with the questions. 

“How was your weekend off?” she politely asked.

“Mm, great” he simply replied. He knew the small talk was her way of not jumping straight into asking about being ready to get naked in front of a camera. “How about you? You get some rest?”. He asked, trying to not be a dick with her. 

Edith explained how she hadn’t fully taken the days off, though she’d rested a bit. She spent most of the time working on the shooting protocol and handling some logistics. She told Joe they were aiming to wrap up everything in one day, two at most. She mentioned details about the environment—how she’d been adamant about lighting, the silence during the shoot, and limiting the crew in the room.

Despite knowing she was saying all those things to make it look like a friendlier scenario, it just had the opposite effect on Joe. When he entered the room Edith was in, she didn’t even try to hide the concern in her face at Joe’s appearance. 

“Are you feeling alright, Joe? If you feel sick or something we could talk to Mark and postpone everything”. Her tone was soft, and for a second Joe really thought about it. 

He could play sick. He could try to slip out of the situation for at least two or three more days… maybe he could fix his mind. Try to put in order some thoughts and see things in a different way. But that wouldn’t work unless he talked to you about it. That was what he had to do. Confront his feelings about you and explain how fucking nervous, no. How fucking sick it made him the idea of getting an erection in the middle of filming, and how violent it would be for you and for him, and for everyone in the damn room. Maybe you would be comprehensive. Maybe you would even laugh about it. Or maybe you would think that Joe was a complete idiot, an unprofessional guy who couldn’t take control of his own body for a few hours. 

“No”. He hissed, almost unconsciously. “No, I… just need to eat something” he lied. “I’m fine”. 

Edith raised an eyebrow, skeptical. It was like she could hear every word of his internal struggle. She pressed on, asking if something was worrying him. Joe shook his head, offering no further explanation. She didn’t want to push, but he could feel her concern. She then mentioned she’d be there for the whole shoot, that he could ask her for anything he needed to feel more comfortable. She even casually suggested a jockstrap if that was something he was worried about.

Before leaving Joe’s room he specifically mentioned how she knew that these scenes could be stressful, and sometimes even awkward, but that he could totally trust her about anything he didn’t really feel like doing. He also told Joe that lots of actors have a hard time about getting unwanted erections, but that was something really natural, because despite him being an actor, his body didn’t necessarily acknowledge that. She concluded by assuring him that everything was going to work just fine and left Joe to go to your room. 

Joe didn’t really know how to feel about that information, it somehow made him feel better and at the same time made him more anxious to become one of those actors she was talking about. 

-

Saying Joe looked terrible was an understatement. He looked sick, pale, distant. You’d tried asking him, but he responded with nothing more than a monosyllabic grunt, eyes averted. The coldness, the avoidance— it rattled you. What had changed? Why was he acting like this now?

First, the sudden withdrawal, and now, the silent treatment. It made no sense. Especially now, when you were on the verge of exposing yourself in front of him. It made the whole situation even more uncomfortable. You needed this to be over, more than ever.

Edith offered a few more directions, calming words, and encouragement before the two of you stepped onto the set. The space was intimate: Edith, Mark, a few techs, Laura and Henry —just the essentials. The air buzzed with anticipation, but it didn’t throw you off. You’d done this before. You’d been through much more explicit scenes. And Mark and Edith had been nothing but professional and supportive, so the only thing that made you nervous was Joe.

Neither of you exchanged a word while Mark ran through the sequence, explaining the shots and movements. You nodded in unison, your eyes never meeting his.

Minutes later, you were pinned against the wall, Joe above you, his body hovering just an inch from yours, his hands firm but cold—one gripping your arm, the other on your hip. His touch felt distant, almost mechanical, and when your eyes met his, you caught a flash of something you couldn’t quite place—nervousness? Anxiety? But you couldn’t bring yourself to ask.

You both stood silent as Mark called “ACTION.” Joe delivered his lines. You laughed on cue, and then he leaned in for the kiss. This time, his lips found yours with such intensity, it startled you —a hungry, almost desperate kiss that stirred something deep within your stomach. You didn’t have to fake it. The chemistry was still there, you could feel it, even if you both had to keep up appearances for the crew.

But the more you kissed, the more strained his body became. His hands were tense. The roughness in his touch grew harder, sharper. It wasn’t like before. It wasn’t like how he used to kiss you, with that mix of admiration and passion. It was stiff, forced. Something was off.

The rest of the scene went downhill. Joe seemed to withdraw further as the shots progressed. His body, rigid as a board, betrayed every word he spoke. The tension was palpable. When it came time for the bed scene, the air felt suffocating.

You straddled him, your torso barely covered by the robe. His gaze never left your body, but his eyes held no warmth, no connection. Instead, they were guarded, cold. As you lowered yourself onto him, he swallowed hard, his whole body stiffening beneath yours.

You couldn't ignore it anymore. His discomfort was suffocating.

“Are you okay?” you whispered, despite the growing unease.

He nodded, a faint, bitter look crossing his face before he turned his gaze away from you.

Before you could speak again, Mark gave the signal to get into character. The cameras rolled, and you tried to keep your focus. But God, it was so painfully obvious.

You shed your robe, and when Joe let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, the silence in the room felt deafening. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. The whole scene felt like it was falling apart.

You repeated your lines, but Joe’s response was hollow, distant. He ran a hand over his face, visibly frustrated, but still unwilling to acknowledge what was happening.

"Sorry, sorry," he muttered, his voice low but lacking conviction. "Let’s start over, I—I wasn’t ready. My bad.”

You did it again, hoping that maybe, this time, things would fall into place. But when you leaned in for the kiss, he was stiff—his lips barely responding, his movements robotic. The chemistry was gone, replaced by an uncomfortable stiffness that everyone in the room could sense.

Mark stopped the scene, his face a mixture of confusion and frustration. "What the hell is going on? This is not the energy we’ve had for weeks. Where’s the chemistry?" His voice cut through the tension like a knife.

You both stood there, silent, trying to navigate the gap that had appeared between you, both of you utterly confused by the growing chasm between your previous connection and the awkwardness that now stood between you.

You tried again, but after a couple of failed attempts, the scene became more and more artificial. Joe’s responses were mechanical, his body unyielding, the chemistry as absent as it had ever been. Mark, now visibly frustrated, demanded answers, but neither of you had any to give.

By the sixth attempt, Joe couldn’t take it anymore. He shoved you aside, freed himself from your hold, and pulled his robe around his body. His face was twisted in anger, his frustration spilling over as he muttered under his breath.

"This is ridiculous," he spat, walking away, leaving you and the crew behind, still trying to understand what the hell had just happened.

Mark instantly followed Joe out of the set, maybe to try to talk to him or to calm him down, but it was clear that something had broken. Everyone in the room fell silent, watching as Joe stormed out. It was like the tension in the air was a living thing, pressing down on everyone. You felt paralyzed for a moment, unsure of how to react. He wasn’t like this at all. You had never seen Joe like this—nervous, frustrated, and overwhelmed. It was as though he had completely closed off from you, and you couldn’t understand why.

You stood there, holding your robe, feeling utterly exposed in every way. It wasn’t just the physical vulnerability of the scene—it was emotional too. Joe’s behavior had sent a confusing signal, and suddenly the chemistry that had felt so natural seemed impossible to grasp.

Edith was quick to approach you. “Take five,” she said softly, gesturing towards the corner of the set. “We’ll give him some space. Let’s reset.”

You nodded silently, walking away from the set as the crew murmured among themselves. They were all so professional, but you could tell they were uncomfortable. It wasn’t just the awkwardness of the scene anymore—it was Joe, and the way he was falling apart in front of everyone.

You found yourself in the small lounge area, sitting down, trying to breathe through the confusion. What had happened? What was wrong with Joe?

It wasn’t long before Edith came over to sit beside you. “You okay?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

You wanted to tell her that you were fine. You weren’t. But you didn’t know how to explain what was happening.

“Do you think he’s okay?” You finally asked, your voice tight. “I mean… is he...?”

Edith hesitated. “I don’t know,” she said gently. “He’s been off the whole morning. He seemed like he was pushing something down, but I didn’t want to pry.”

You bit your lip, frustration bubbling up again. This whole situation felt so... off. Everything was supposed to be smooth. The chemistry, the camaraderie, the work—it had all been seamless until now. And now, it was like a wall had gone up between you and Joe, and you had no idea how to break it down.

“We’ll talk to him,” Edith said, after a moment. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this out. Just try to take a break. Don’t overthink it.”

You nodded, but your mind raced. It didn’t make sense. What was going on with Joe? Why couldn’t he just talk to you?

After a few minutes, Mark came in, looking more serious than ever. “We’ll have to reschedule for tomorrow,” he said, eyes scanning the room. “Take a break, everyone. I’ll talk to Joe, and we’ll figure out where we go from here. I don’t want to push this.”

With that, the set slowly emptied, leaving you alone in the quiet of the lounge. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. Something was wrong, and you had no idea how to fix it.

On the way back to the hotel Edtih tried to talk to you again but you weren’t feeling like it, so you politely refused and went to your room alone. You needed to rest for real. You needed a shower and to hide under your bed until it was 2026. You were feeling ridiculous, exposed, frustrated… you were not even sure why you were feeling like that, no one, not even Joe said that any of it had been your fault, but yet you were feeling responsible. 

And that overwhelming feeling made you more upset if it was possible, because it was truly unfair. You were not irrational though, you knew you couldn’t blame Joe for the way you felt, but at the same time he had been a dick for the last 72 hours or so… how could you not feel as if you had done something wrong. Maybe you had, you could deal with that, but why wouldn’t he come clean about whatever the hell was upsetting him? 

You couldn’t stand being in your room all alone chewing over the same thoughts, you needed answers, so if Joe wouldn’t be brave enough to talk this out, you were. You put on some jeans and a hoodie and with your hair still wet you left your suite and walked to Joe’s. 

Maybe he wasn’t even there, he should have since he had claimed to not be able to keep up with the shooting. But it didn’t matter, you were determined to talk to him even if you had to wait there for hours. 

He gasped your name when he opened the door, eyes widening in genuine surprise. He didn’t look as bad as he had this morning —but he still wasn’t quite himself.

"We need to talk," you said, but Joe didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

"Joe, seriously."

"I… I wouldn’t even know what to say," he confessed. At least this time, he looked at you.

"Well, I do. So at least you're going to listen."

He didn’t argue. He just stood there, silent, watching as you walked past him into the living area. When he finally followed, he sat on the armchair across from you. Something about that —his distance, his passiveness— made your anger flare.

"You’ve gotta be kidding me, Joseph Quinn." Your voice was sharp, cutting through the silence.

Joe opened his mouth, but you didn’t give him the chance.

"How dare you? What kind of psychopath makes me believe he cares, that he's comfortable with me, that we're friends—only to turn around and act like none of it meant anything? What was it, Joe? Just a game? A fucking joke?"

"I care about you," he whispered, but you weren’t done.

"Oh, you care? Funny, because all I see is someone who’s been acting like a complete asshole for days. And for what? I don’t even fucking know. But you know what I do know? That this —whatever the hell this is— is cruel."

Joe stared at you, his expression unreadable. Not a single word. No excuses. No explanations. It was infuriating.

"And now, you just sit there like you have nothing to say? Nothing about the filming, about this morning, about how I fucking feel?" Your voice was rising, the frustration pushing you past your breaking point. "How could you do that?"

Joe finally stood up, his movements restless, his frustration mirroring yours.

"You want me to talk?"

"Of course I fucking do!"

He ran a hand through his hair, pacing the room, looking as torn apart as you felt.

"Then you should know—I was never pretending. Never," he shot back, his voice raw. "I do fucking care about you. You're important to me, okay?"

You let out a bitter laugh. "Then act like it."

Joe exhaled sharply. "I don’t know how, alright? I already told you—I don’t know what to say. What do you want from me?"

"The truth, Joe. That’s all I fucking want." Your voice cracked, and for the first time that night, it wasn’t anger driving you. It was exhaustion. Defeat. "I just want you to be honest about what’s wrong with you. With us."

Joe looked away. His silence was worse than any argument.

That was it.

Your chest ached as you turned to leave, blinking fast to keep the tears at bay. Joe said your name in a whisper, but you didn’t stop. He called it again, louder, but you kept walking.

You were almost at the door when you felt his hand wrap around your arm. Firm, but not rough. Desperate.

"Let me go, please," you whispered, voice shaking.

Joe didn’t move.

"Joe, please."

He heard it then—the way your voice broke completely. The way you were crying, whether you wanted to or not.

"Look at me," he begged. "Please."

You couldn’t. Instead, a quiet sob escaped, and your body gave up fighting. That was all Joe needed to pull you in, his arms locking around you. You didn’t resist.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, again and again, his voice breaking as he held you tighter.

You turned in his hold, but instead of meeting his gaze, you buried your face in his chest, hands gripping his shirt. He cradled the back of your head, his touch tender in a way that made it worse.

Because he still wouldn’t say what you needed to hear.

[megalony]

Joseph Quinn Masterlist

Since I am starting to write for a few of Joe's characters and I have quite a few Gladiator fics for him now, I've been asked to give him his own masterlist. So here we go.

Gladiator:

Emperor Geta:

Near Death Experience

Valuable To The Emperor

A Hindrance

Maimed My Wife

Like A Flower

No One But You

Cast Under This Spell

I Don't Like This

Secure The Succession

What A Healer Can't Fix

Merciless Wrath Part 2 Part 3

Heir To Rome Part 2

Undo What's Done Part 2

Stranger Things:

Eddie Munson:

Learn The Signs

You, Me and Them

Somewhere Safe

Bring Her Back

A Quiet Place: Day One:

Eric:

Horrors To Overcome

Silence Is Golden

Safety And Sanctuary

Hoard:

Michael:

I'm So Cold

Wrongful Touches

[storiesforallfandoms]

i'd find you in any life ~ eric; a quiet place day one

word count: 3614

request?: no

description: in which two idiots in love find their way back to each other after the end of the world

pairing: eric x female!reader

warnings: swearing, use of y/n, spoilers for aqpdo, mentions of death, mentions of the quiet place aliens, end of the world type beat

masterlist (one, two, three)

Day One

The little bell over the door chimed to signal the first customer she'd seen in nearly an hour. She stifled an eye roll and bookmarked her novel, only to find it was her favorite customer.

"Hey Eric!"

Eric smiled at her. She was glad to be leaning against the counter because his smile never failed to make her weak in the knees.

"Working hard, or hardly working?" Eric asked, mirroring her leaning position across from her.

"Oh, very clearly working hard," she responded, gesturing to her book. "I'm almost finished my book."

"Very hard work indeed."

(Y/N) chuckled. "Want your usual?"

"Of course. And one of those delicious looking chocolate chip muffins."

(Y/N) playfully salted and went to make Eric's usual coffee order.

Eric had been coming to the coffee shop (Y/N) worked at for months now. He had came in first one morning before one of his classes, in a rush and asking her to make him anything with caffeine as quickly as she could. She quickly made him a coffee and he threw a $20 bill at her, telling her to keep the change. He came back the next day to thank her, and to tell her it was the best coffee he ever had. She made him another and insisted it was on the house.

It was the start of Eric being a regular customer, as well as being the start of his and (Y/N)'s friendship.

Eric watched her work to make his coffee. "You know, one of these days I'll figure out what you do to make such good coffee."

She smiled at him over her shoulder. "It's just coffee! I don't even do anything special with it."

"But it's the best coffee I've had! I can't even make coffee this good."

"I make it with love."

She quickly turned away to pretend she was making his coffee. Really, she was trying to hide the look of embarrassment on her face. The second the words had left her mouth, she regretted it.

Of course (Y/N) had a crush on Eric. You'd be crazy not to. On a surface level, he was extremely handsome. He had the biggest, brownest eyes she had ever seen, the prettiest face, and a smile that made her feel like she was flying. Not to mention that British accent of his, which was way too easy to fall for. And then she got to know him and she found herself falling even deeper in love with his personality. He was the sweetest person she had ever met. She'd be crazy not to develop feelings for him.

The question then, she knew, was why did she never tell Eric how she felt about him?

As kind as Eric was, and as much as she considered him a friend, she knew they weren't meant to be together. Eric was in New York to go to law school. He was going to be a big lawyer, make lots of money and be successful. (Y/N), on the other hand, was in her 20s working in a coffee shop, with no prospects for the future. She didn't know what she wanted in life, but she knew Eric likely wouldn't be a part of it. It was best for him, even if it hurt her.

She poured his coffee into a take away cup and bagged the muffin he asked for. She could barely look at him as she rang in his order. He was looking at her with those big, brown eyes. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to form a coherent sentence if she did.

"Are you on your way to class?" she asked as she took his payment.

"Not for another hour and a half," he replied. "Had to come down to get my coffee first, and was hoping you weren't too busy so I could hang out for a bit."

(Y/N) couldn't fight the smile on her face. "I guess I won't kick you out for loitering."

"As long as I don't get you in trouble."

She scoffed. "Please, you're a paying customer. There's nothing my manager can get upset about. Not that he ever shows up anyways."

Eric paid for his order, and as (Y/N) was getting his change he pulled another $20 bill from his wallet and put it into the tip jar next to the register. (Y/N)'s eyes widened. She grabbed the bill and tried to give it back to Eric.

"That's your tip," he said.

"It's too much, Eric! Just give me your change!"

He shook his head. "You deserve it. I told you, you make the best coffee I've ever had. Not to mention the coffee comes with a side of friendship with a wonderful person."

She tried not to let her smile falter at the word "friends". She knew that's all they were. It was her choice to keep her secrets a secret.

Eric hung around long enough to eat his muffin and drink about half of his coffee. It wasn't until another customer finally came in that they both realized the time and he had to go. (Y/N) said goodbye and Eric promised to come back again the next day. She smiled at him before turning her attention back to her new customer.

Soon, the shop was empty again and (Y/N) found herself missing Eric's presence. Despite being friends, they had yet to exchange phone numbers. Eric had found (Y/N) on social media and asked her if it was okay for him to follow and message her, which of course she said yes. They had messaged back and forth on there, but there was something more intimate about asking for his phone number. Maybe she was just overthinking that. They were already friends, they already spoke outside of when he came to the shop. What harm was there in asking for his number to text whenever they wanted to, and not just when they had internet?

That's it, she thought. I'll do it tomorrow.

(Y/N) was content with her decision, smiling to herself as she was cleaning the coffee machine, when she heard a commotion outside. Through the shop window she could see a crowd forming. She stepped up to the window to see everyone looking at the sky. She followed their gazes to see streaks of light falling from the sky. She thought it was a meteor shower at first, but there was something about it that made her feel off. Like it wasn't just a few space rocks passing over Earth.

She noticed one beam of light was coming closer. Not exactly at her specifically, but close enough for it to be concerning. The crowd in front of the shop suddenly started to move, some of them in a panicked manner. (Y/N) backed away from the window, planning to take cover however she could, but she was too late. There was the sound of an impact a few streets over, followed by rumbling of an aftershock that eventually reached the shop. The last thing (Y/N) remembered was the shop windows exploding and her being thrown back, hitting her head on a nearby table and knocking her out.

~~~~~~

Day 89

"There's a boat coming!"

Eric didn't usually care much to see who was arriving at the island. He was always glad to know that other people had heard and figured out Henri's code to get to safety, but he knew that whoever was coming was not someone for him. He had lost everyone during those first few days - his parents (not that it was ever confirmed, but he knew the likeliness was slim and he'd never get a real confirmation he was sure), Sam.

(Y/N).

There was no reason for him to go watch as new survivors were welcomed to the island, like so many of the others did.

But that day, he was sat outside in the sun eating with Frodo when the call came. Frodo's ears had perked up and, before Eric could stop him, the black and white feline had taken off towards the beach. Eric swore under his breath and got up to follow.

"Even the damn cat is a noisy bugger," Eric muttered to himself.

There was already a small crowd huddled to watch as the small boat coasted onto the island. Henri and a few others were already there, pulling the boat to shore and helping the small handful of survivors off. He was speaking to the first person who had gotten off, a man who shared the same expression that everyone did when they first got there - terror. The confusion and fear of Henri speaking always got to them first, and often times people wouldn't believe Henri when he said that the aliens couldn't reach them because they couldn't survive the water.

Eric was looking for Frodo more than he was paying attention to whoever was getting off the boat. The cat was moving around the people in his way so smoothly, meanwhile Eric had to bump and push his way past everyone, mumbling an apology as he went.

Frodo suddenly ran towards the boat as another person got off. Eric broke through the crowd and chased after Frodo, an apology already on the tip of his tongue for whoever Frodo had ran up to. But the words died before they could come out as he watched the person scoops Frodo up in her arms and look for whoever owned him, her eyes locking on Eric immediately.

"Eric?"

"(Y/N)?"

He was moving before he realized it, his arms around (Y/N) to pull her into a hug. Tears were forming in his eyes as he held her, making sure that she was actually real and not a figment of his imagination.

Frodo grumbled, breaking them apart. He jumped down from (Y/N)'s arms and sat looking between them.

"Is he yours?" she asked.

"Technically yes. He belonged to someone else before, but..." He stopped, the familiar ache in his chest from whenever he thought about Sam. "But he's mine, now."

(Y/N) nodded. She seemed to understand. They had all gone through the same hell, all lost someone. It was hard not to understand.

"Bring her up," Henri said, suddenly appearing next to the two of them. That's when Eric realized that everyone was making their way back to the community. "Unless you both want to keep standing here all day."

Eric shook his head. "No, sorry. (Y/N), come with me."

(Y/N) was shocked upon seeing the community of houses and people, as most survivors are. They were so used to the wreckage that the aliens caused, and all the fear that drove so many into silence, that seeing all these well built houses, and seeing people talking and living without fear, was foreign.

"When was the last time you ate anything?" Eric asked (Y/N). "Or showered? Or had water?"

"A long time," (Y/N) responded to all three questions.

Eric nodded. "I have my own place. Frodo and I were just having lunch, and there's plenty to share. I have a working shower, drinkable water."

"That all sounds perfect," she said. "Lead the way."

Eric showed her to his place. He gave her towels and told her he'd find her clean clothes from one of the other ladies in town. He tried not to linger as she stepped into the bathroom and let the shower run. She'd think he was crazy if she caught him there, debating on going into the shower with her, but it was the only thing on his mind in this moment. Well, besides the desire to kiss her senseless and never let her go again.

Eric had mourned (Y/N). Even before he met Sam and had to mourn her as well, he mourned the coffee shop girl who had became such a good friend to him; who he had loved and never told. When the invasion first started, Eric's first thought wasn't his own survival, but about if (Y/N) had gotten to safety. He had left her in the coffee shop just moments prior, and someone had been with her then, but did that person stay? Did more people come? Was there anyone there to protect her, to get her out? Had she figured out too late that the aliens were attracted to sound?

When he got on the boat to come to the island, he looked at every other survivor that was there with him. He asked around if anyone knew (Y/N), if they knew whether she was there. When they got to the island, he looked at the others who had gotten there first. She was nowhere to be seen, and no one knew of her. He had to come to terms with the fact that she was probably dead, and that made him wish he was, too.

He regretted never telling (Y/N) how he felt. He thought he had lost his chance forever, and that thought haunted him every day. He could hardly believe that she was actually here, that she had survived.

One of his neighbors was gracious enough to give him clothes for (Y/N). He left them outside the bathroom door for her, then went back outside to continue eating. He had gotten the extra food he had planned to put away as leftovers and brought it out for (Y/N) to eat, as well as gotten her a glass of water. Frodo had taken his position hunched over a can of cat food again, eating away as if he were the one who was starved.

(Y/N) came out a few minutes later, her wet hair clinging to her and looking more refreshed. She still looked exhausted, but he knew how long it would take to really get any rest after what she had experienced.

She sat down next to him and picked up the food he had waiting for her.

"Thank you," she said.

"Of course," he responded. "You served me for quite some time. I think it's only fair I finally repay the favor."

She smiled, and he was brought back to every time he visited her coffee shop and was able to make her smile at something he said. It had always been such an accomplishment to him.

They ate in silence for some time. (Y/N) tried to savor the food, but she was so hungry that she couldn't help but scarf so much of it down so quickly. Eric couldn't help but watch her. He was still terrified that she'd suddenly disappear and he'd realize this was all just a dream.

"I can't believe you're here," he said before he could stop himself.

(Y/N) looked up at him. "I can't believe you're here. I thought..."

"Me too."

She moved her plate aside and turned her body so that she was facing him. "What happened that day?"

"I was in the tube - the subway - and suddenly there was all this shaking and rumbling. A pipe or something burst eventually and suddenly the whole place was flooded. I was sure I was a goner, until I managed to get to a stairwell that led up into New York. That's where I first met this guy - " Eric reached over to pat Frodo. " - and I followed him to his owner. She...she's the reason I'm here."

"Did she...?"

Eric swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "She was sick. She told me she made peace with her mortality and was okay with the sacrifice so that Frodo and I could survive."

(Y/N) reached out to place her hand on Eric's. He moved it so that their fingers intertwined. If this had been months ago, he would've been more focused on the fact that he was finally holding (Y/N)'s hand.

"She sounds like a good person," (Y/N) said. "I wish I could've met her."

"Me too," Eric said. "What about you? What happened to you that day?"

"Well, I was at the coffee shop, as you know, and suddenly these...things...I guess the eggs? I don't know, but I watched them fall from the sky. One of them landed a few streets over from the shop and the aftershocks blew the windows out and knocked me out. When I came to, I had been rescued by Stephen, he's the one who got off the boat first. He found anyone who was still alive and brought us to this building to hide us away. He told us to keep quiet, that it was the only way for us to survive. He kept going out and searching for other survivors, or for any resources to keep us alive."

"He didn't take you to the boats?"

She shook her head. "He tried, but there was an attack when we were all trying to get there. We kind of dispersed and all ended up back in the same building. A lot of us didn't make it, and by the time we tried to get out again the boats were gone. We had no idea where they were going, or how to get there since every boat had been taken from the dock it seemed. We settled in to try and fend for ourselves, which we did until we happened to hear a song looping over the radio."

"Beyond the Sea," Eric said. "It was Henri's idea. It was a code to get more survivors to come to safety."

"It worked. It just took some time for us to follow it."

"But you're here now." Eric squeezed her hand. "God, I'm so glad you're here. I thought...I spent every day thinking about you."

"I thought about you a lot, too." There were tears in her eyes now, too. "When I woke up, the first thing I thought was worrying where you were. I wanted so badly for you to have been someone that Stephen saved, and then so much time passed and I thought..."

Eric nodded. "Me too. I really thought you were gone."

It may not have been the most tactful way to do it, but emotions were running high and Eric's brain wasn't particularly working right. He took hold of her face and pulled her to him, pressing his lips against hers. It wasn't the best kiss in the world, he would admit. Because he caught (Y/N) off guard, it was more teeth than lips, and he could taste the saltiness of their mixed tears on her lips.

When she pulled away almost immediately, Eric felt embarrassment wash over him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have done that without asking first."

To his surprise, (Y/N) moved their plates out of their way before climbing onto Eric's lap. She leaned in slower, giving him more time to register that they were going to kiss again. When her lips touched his this time, it was soft and gentle, but still needy. Like they were both making up for so much lost time, which, he guessed, they were.

They were only interrupted this time by someone yelling, "Hey! There's kids out here! Get a room!"

(Y/N) pulled away, giggling a little as she rested her forehead against Eric's.

"So, it was okay that I kissed you?" he asked.

"I would think me kissing you back was enough of an answer," she said. "But yes, it was very much okay."

"I've wanted to do that since the day after we met."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "The day after?"

"Well yeah. The day we met I was in such a hurry that I didn't have time to really register the fact that a beautiful woman was making me coffee."

"See, that's so funny, because I also wanted to kiss you the day we met, and every day after when you came in for coffee."

"Wait, really?" Her smile was shyer now as she nodded her head. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Well, you were going to school to be a lawyer and you had everything going for you. I was just the girl in a coffee shop who didn't know what she was doing with her life. I thought...I thought it would be better for you if we didn't date, so that you could find someone with the same ambitions as you."

"I'm not saying this now because the world as ended, but fuck me being a lawyer. I didn't care if you were working at a coffee shop, or going to school like I was, or if you were just some homeless person on the side of the road. I loved you for who you were. I still love you for who you are."

(Y/N) was speechless. It was the words she had been longing to hear for so long, even after the world went to shit. She was convinced she was dreaming, or having some sort of alien induced hallucination. She made a mental note to pinch herself later, because if this was a dream she didn't want to wake up any time soon.

"I love you, too."

They went to kiss again, but Frodo meowed and nudged Eric's leg. He chuckled as he reached down to pet the cat. "I guess we shouldn't just be making out in broad daylight after already being yelled at once."

"I suppose not," (Y/N) said. "You know, I am awfully tired still. You should take me in to see your bed."

Eric grinned at her. "I like the way you think."

[websterss]

JUST TRYING TO BE BRAVE — ERIC (AQPDO)

REQUEST: A request for Eric from A Quiet Place: Day One The reader only knows of one way to calm him whilst he's having a panic attack during the madness, and they gently let him rest against their chest and listen to their heartbeat until he calms down <3

WARNING(S): SLIGHT SPOILERS, fluff, angst, panic attacks

WORD COUNT: 1,286

PAIRING: Eric x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! I didn’t know where you wanted the reader to calm him down so you get a two-for-one scenario fic lmfao <33

MASTERLIST

You don’t know what you would’ve done if you hadn’t run into Sam like you and Eric had. You two probably would have continued to wander the discarded vacant streets of New York, had you decided not to follow the cat.

Sam had been insistent on you both leaving her be with her cat, but at last she got used to your presence. Now as you shelter in her abandoned home, watching and hearing the rain fall from the windows, you can’t help but feel relieved those creatures can’t hear your beloved's panicked inhales and exhales.

“Eric, it’s okay! You’re alright. We’re okay!�� He only shakes his head at your reassured comments. Your consolation this time wasn’t doing the trick to calm him down, if you hadn’t run out you would have given him his prescribed anxiety meds. “It’s okay. They can’t hear us up here right now. You’re okay. We’ve made it this far haven’t we?” You breathe out a laugh as you cup his face. He barely musters a nod before his eyes close again, you could imagine the tornado spinning around in his chest. Wreaking havoc on his sanity and any small chance of serenity. You could imagine it all. You could see the panic, the fear in his eyes, making his chest rise and fall rapidly as he struggled to maintain his breath. “Do you want to try it again, what your doctor recommended us to do? Your head pressed on my chest. Match your breathing to the rhythm of each beat of my heart…” You trailed off letting him take the lead.

At your suggestion, he nods slowly, his eyes closing as he reaches out for your hands again. "O-Okay..." Eric tried to take deep breaths, but they came out as panicked stutters.

You sat back against the sofa, allowing space for him to rest against your chest. You began to steady your rhythmic pace, knowing it only worked if you were just as calm and relaxed. You press a gentle kiss against his curls. As his breathing slows to a soft inhale and exhale. He tuned out everything around him. Hearing every thump, feeling every minor skip in your chest. He felt your steadiness, felt the caresses in his hair. The strong warm hold of your other arm as you held him close. He could feel you, hear every intake of air. You were present for him, and he was welcoming the stillness the moment allowed for you both to have once again. He guessed as much though just how the rest of your lives would dissolve into, a world of quiet.

It seemed heavenly at first, but otherworldly frightening, knowing he might just have to savor the small moments where he’d get to hear your voice again. Just as he was doing now.

Once you registered his slackened jaw and relaxed shoulders, you assumed as much that he had fallen asleep. You didn’t dare move. Your fingers continued to rake through his hair as he had succumbed to sleep. You couldn't help but feel relieved that he had calmed down and been able to find some rest. The rain continued to patter against the windows, its soothing sound acting as a natural lullaby to ease your nerves. As you held him close, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his peaceful face.

“What started the attacks?” Sam watches you both from the windows.

“Moving far from home. His parents were so proud of him for following through with law school, but he was devastated to leave them. I completely out of mind in love with him, made the biggest jump of my life following him to the U.S.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

You peer up at Sam with glistened eyes. “N-No. I wouldn’t be sane going through this apocalypse without him. Whatever this whole mess is!” You exclaimed quietly. You look down at him, brushing back his curls. “I’d regret it more if I hadn’t followed him here. I can’t imagine what he would’ve done all alone, if he’d survived it this far. I think he would. I wonder if he’d have met you just the same if I wasn’t here. I’d have been thankful just the same though, Sam. For letting him stick with you.” You choke back a sob, your smile widening at the corners. Sam only nods, turning her head away from your vulnerable confession. You didn’t take it to the heart. Who knew what pain she was going through herself.

As you spoke to Sam, your voice quivered with a mix of love and vulnerability. You could feel the weight of your words hanging in the air, and for a moment, it was as if the world outside faded away, leaving only the three of you to navigate this strange new reality. You couldn’t help but wonder how Eric would have fared if you hadn't been by his side, a thought that sent a shiver down your spine. With bated breaths, you turned your focus back to him, sleeping peacefully in your arms.

-

“Eric baby please!” You swish around in the water, eyes glistening as you look up at the creature crawling out from the hole on the roof. Sam had taken a more firmer approach. Holding her hand over his mouth. You had caught him about to squeak, before Sam shushed him. His need to express his panic in screams was hard to muffle.

You moved as quietly as you could in the water. Making your way to take over Sam’s place. Eric only shook his head at you. You had to nod, to remind him to stay calm.

“Eric, we need to slow your heart.”

“N-No, no, no.” He muttered. “I can’t…”

“You can, you can. Baby, look at me.” You whispered harshly, gripping his face like Sam had done. In a more serene and calm scenario, your softer touch would have been your go-to, but not when that thing was getting closer. “I’m scared right now, I’m scared too, but we need to get you back on track. I need you to focus and match your breathing to mine, right now!” Your eyes plead with him. “Please!”

His eyes were wide with fear, pupils dilated and breaths shallow. The panic was clearly taking over him as water dipped into his mouth, making it difficult for him to focus on anything other than the impending danger. Despite his obvious distress, he nodded slightly, trying his best to calm himself down. As you held his face, he tried to match his breathing to yours, each breath a struggle for control over the mounting fear. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to stay grounded in the presence of your touch.

"I got you. D-Deep breaths…" You barely whisper to him, your frequency morphing into mouthed words.

He took a shaky breath, shuddering as he attempted to follow your instructions. Your steady presence grounded him to the moment.

You didn't hesitate to place his head on your chest. You placed your hand on the back of his head, rubbing his wet hair back and forth in hopes of reassuring him. You tread lightly backwards, keeping your sights on the beast behind you three.

Eric pressed his ear against your chest, the sound of your steady heartbeat providing a calming rhythm to focus on. His breaths were still shaky, but with your hand on the back of his head, soothing in soft caresses, he slowly began to calm down. He closed his eyes and let himself be guided through the water, trusting your instincts to lead the way. Trusting both Sam and you to get him far away from the damned creature.

[munsonify]

can we... pls get some eric x reader 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

yesss omg!! of course!! i wasn’t sure if you meant pre or post apocalypse so i went post! i hope you enjoy it, and im sorry it’s kinda short ♥️♥️

pairing: eric x gn!reader

description: teary eyed eric won’t let you out of his reach

warning/s: no gendered descriptions, slight mentions of blood and the monsters, crying/anxiety

word count: 304

the gentle touch of eric’s hand is what grounds you, his fingers wrapping right around your wrist. it was late, you knew that. you wanted nothing more than to sleep. images of the creatures that roam outside of a mostly standing building you were camped in was burned into your eyes. their dull grey skin mixed with the bright red of human blood scared you shitless.

with whatever luck you two had left, you and eric found your way into a break room of a business that had a dusty couch inside of it. no matter the silent protest that you gave him, he still insisted you slept there. he swore he was okay with the floor. you just wanted his presence.

your eyes flicker down at eric, his wide, wet eyes staring right into you. without any sort of hesitation, you opened up your arms to him. you could see his lips start to quiver and his hands begin to shake. he needed nothing more than your comfort. eric pulled himself up for his seat on the ground, body immediately weighing down on yours. your warmth engulfed him, your tight grip grounding him just like he’d grounded you.

his strong arms wrapped around your waist. in a desperate attempt to quiet himself, he pressed his face into your shirt covered chest. several shaky breaths were let out against your body. a hand was brought up to cradle the back of his head to hold him in place, and the other ran against the length of his back soothingly. eric’s breathing was sporadic, though after some time and some tears, you could feel it steadying with yours.

he couldn’t imagine trying to do this alone. he was grateful to have you. he just hopes he doesn’t fuck it up for the both of you.

[xxmayxx05]

I won't let go, if you don't let go

pairing: Eric x Fem! reader

Contents: blood, weird aliens, Fluff (involves a cute man with puppy eyes). 18+ in the next chapter!

a/n: Hi everyone! I hope you like my first Eric imagine! Joseph Quinn did such an amazing job as Eric. If you haven't watched A quiet place day one, I highly recommend it. I am going to make this a small series, and I want to make more Eric content. So please please send requests. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. - May<3

Day 5

Closing your eyes, you sighed softly and stood infront of the window of your apartment. You were still trying to process and understand what day happened just five days ago. It was a regular day for you, you were coming back from Law school. You were in the subway to go back to your apartment after a very stressful day. All you wanted was to go back home to your apartment, cry your eyes out, order some take out and drink your favorite wine. 

You never would of guessed that the world was practically going to end. At your last stop, you were about to step off the train when you heard screaming all around. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach when you felt the floor shake hard, and the sounds of bombs deathened your ears. Not knowing what to do, you stood there frightened. Out of nowhere you saw, what seemed to be a monster. The monster was killing people, with every victim, the walls were splattered with blood all around and people were running around. 

“Y/N!” you heard some scream out your name and felt someone wrap their arms around your waist. 

The unknown person pulled you back into the train and threw you both onto the ground. Finally getting out of your frightened daze, you had realized that it was Eric. He was one of your classmates in law school, the british man had worked with you in one project last semester. Both of you would meet up after school, would go to each others places to work on the project. You had grown really fond of being with Eric in such a short amount of time and it scared you because you would feel butterflies in your stomach when you would see him. It sounded unbelievable but you had a crush on Eric but always tried to push it aside so you could focus on law school. 

“Love!, look at me. Look at me please” Eric begged quietly as he softly caressed your cheek. The train started being flooded with water and very quickly. He helped you get up slowly as he looked around to see if the unknown creature was around, but it had gone all the way down of the subway. Eric could only think was about getting you out of your state of shock. All you did was blink and look at him. You started breathing heavily as you started gain more consciousness of what your just had seen. 

“E-eric” you cried softly and realized that what had just happened. 

“You have to be quiet” he whispered as he quickly covered your mouth and nodded his head. The water had now risen up to his waist. “We need to find the way out quickly and quietly” he said and gave you a small smile when you had nodded your head and tried to calm your breathing. 

“Follow me” you whispered and grabbed his hand. You were thankful that this was your stop and you knew your way around the subway. Finally being able to calm yourself down, you carefully stepped out of the train and gasped softly when you saw the amount of bodies that were floating in the water. 

“We have to keep going Y/n” he whispered in your ear as the water had risen mid stomach. Eric felt you begin to softly cry at the sight of the floating bodies. He was scared at the sight as well but he needed to survive and you as well. “Please, the water is rising” he plead in a hushed tone. 

Making yourself knock out of the shock, you practically began to flutter kick in the water softly. The water was rising faster but it didn’t stop you from almost getting to the entrance.

“Take a deep breath and swim y/n” Eric breathed heavily. The water had risen up all the way to his neck now, and he had his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you upfloat. 

“Please don’t let go” you cried softly, thinking that this could be the end of you both. He shook his head immediately. 

“I won’t, if you won’t” he said and panicked softly as the water had risen up to his chin. “Now” he said and took a deep breath. 

After taking your final deep breath, you saw at the semi dark water. You and Eric had your hands intertwined tightly. Looking around in a panic you saw light. Swimming close to the light, you tried touching the floor but you recognized that there were steps. You swam practically half up the steps with Eric. Finally getting close to the surface you, gasped for air when you were out of the water. Immediate relief filled your chest when you were gasping for air and realized that you were alive. Turning around, you immediately wrapped your arms around Eric and hugged him. 

“It’s a-alright love, we are a-alright” he said quietly and still trying to catch up on his breathing. Eric was about to slip into a state of shock himself, he was about to die down there in the subway. His soft cries took over, feeling too over whelmed about everything that was going on around him. All he wanted was to have a regular day at law school, hoping that he could grow the courage to talk to you in the hallway but he would retreat everytime. Now he was here in what seemed to be the end of the world in his eyes, all he wanted to do is hide and try to survive with you. 

“We h-have to go” you whispered and caressed Eric’s cheek. He had began to worry you as his eyes were wide opened and his body shook in fear. “Eric please” you begged silently and made him look at you. “Look at me” you whispered and smiled softly when started blinking rapidly. 

“Good job” you reassured him and kept caressing his cheek. “My apartment is down the block, we have to be quick and careful” you said quietly and looked around. The streets were quiet, cars flipped and wrecked, some building were on fire. Relief came over you when you didn’t see any of the scary creatures. “We have to go now” you whispered and intertwined your fingers with Eric’s. 

Both of you had walked carefully and quietly down the block. His grip tightened, scared that he was going to loose you at any second. Walking up the steps of your building, you caught your breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. You lead Eric up to the sixth floor and walked to your door. Crouching down, you looked underneath the door mat. Feeling relief that your apartment key was there, you always kept it there for any type of emergency. Grabbing it, you unlocked your door carefully and opened the door. Trying to open the door softly, you both walked in and you locked the door behind. 

—-

Sighing softly you kept looking out the window and smiled softly when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You felt comfort with the thunderstorm that had just started and knowing that you weren’t alone and had Eric. Both of you were afraid to step outside after what you guys witnessed, all you both did was cuddle in your bed, try to draw, play tic tac toe, and finding out that Eric was a very good magician. 

“Are you okay?” he asked softly and wrapped both of his arms around your waist. Eric knew that you were still trying to get yourself out of the state of shock, he was also trying to do the same but he knew that it was going to stay with you both for a very long time. 

“Yes” you whispered and leaned your head back on his chest and closed your eyes. Being with Eric made your anxiety and nerves calm down. Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, you were falling more and more for him. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked and hugged you. Leaning his chin on top of your head, he loved how you both became so close with each other. He didn’t feel embarrassed, that he would follow you around the apartment like a lost puppy because he was afraid that with a blink of an eye you would be gone. 

“We need to leave soon, Eric” you said and turned around. Looking up your eyes teared up at the feeling of fear began to rise. “We only have food for two more days and then it’s gone. We have to get to those boats” you said, crying softly. “I don’t want to loose you” you admitted and gasped softly when Eric immediately kissed you.

Eric couldn’t help himself anymore and kissed you. He was happy that you felt this way towards him, he was afraid that he was going to loose you too. Eric knew that he had to man up and get you both to those boats. Mostly you, he had to get you to safety but he promised himself that he was going to protect you until the very end. 

Feeling relief that you kissed him back with as much passion made him feeling butterflies in his stomach. Loving how your soft hand caressed his cheek and your other arm wrapped around his neck. Leaning back softly and leaning his forehead against yours. 

“You aren’t going to loose me, I promise you that” he said with a small smile. “In two days, we will head to the boats first thing in the morning. Once we get to safety, it’s just you and me” he reassured you and pecked your lips. “I’m not letting you go if you don’t let me go” he said. 

“I won’t” you promised and pecked his lips. Gasping softly when he picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“I want you” he said and searched your eyes for permission. 

“I’m all yours” you smiled softly and kissed him. Giggling softly when he began walking to your bed, he was going to worship your body. The way that he had wished to do since he met you the first time in class. 

[finalgowrl]

go little rockstar 💫

[pitifulbaby]

I’m actually so normal about this btw

[midniqhtt]

eric (aqpdo)

masterlist • 08/16/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 easy living I @fairyysoup

You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?

𑣲 just trying to be brave I @websterss

The reader only knows of one way to calm him whilst he's having a panic attack during the madness, and they gently let him rest against their chest and listen to their heartbeat until he calms down

𑣲 love and mercy I @lovebugism

you're more stubborn than the apocalypse. eric is the personification of a sad, wet dog. your world's collide when the world as you know it ends.

𑣲 shame is useless I @corroded-hellfire

Sam has noticed how much you look at Eric, and encourages you to go for what you want because no one knows how much time there is left.

𑣲 the great gig in the sky I @sunsburns

you had come to the library with only one thing in mind; to finish your final paper for class. but then there's this cute forgein lawyer asking you for help finding a book, and you think you're hitting it off with this guy but then the next thing you know, the world is ending.

𑣲 fallen fruit I @/sunsburns

you and eric go on a supply run to help aid the mother and her child at your safe spot, where dozens of other survivors are hiding. it isn't too far of a journey, and travelling in groups is better than alone, however, when the military starts bombing the bridges in new york city, the two of you are forced to go into hiding after being chased by a death angel.

𑣲 be quiet darling I @eddiesxangel

𑣲 i’d find you in any life I @storiesforallfandoms

in which two idiots in love find their way back to each other after the end of the world

𑣲 hush I @kitscutie

after you obtain an injury which requires stitches, you do your best to keep absolutely silent.

𑣲 perhaps, perhaps, perhaps I @pasukiyo

perhaps it's chance. perhaps it's happenstance. but perhaps it is fate.

𑣲 needs and wants I @babybluebex

in the direct aftermath of the apocalypse, you meet a man who's worse for wear in just about every regard. even though you can't do too much to heal his injuries, it's possible that you can heal his heart.

[rafeyswrd]

a quiet place au, series one

. . . from my pogue!reader x rafe cameron universe.

SUMMARY. all you wanted was to spend a day work free. a tragic expectation really, when the screeching and dreadful screams sounded through the island. and after painful trudges and sour wounds, it didn’t take long to figure out that all you needed to do was stay quiet — and simultaneously take care of a terrified and overly scared cameron.

day one. chapter one.

CONTENT WARNINGS. gore. blood. violence. death. wounds. vile monsters (?). starvation ( not an ed ). puking. false methods of healing. overuse of medication. drug addiction & withdrawal ( rafe ). diseases. implication of mental health disorders ( depression, anxiety ). attachment issues. mention of parental abuse. sexual relationships ( smut ). bad friendships. romance through horror ✍🏽

PLEASE READ AUTHOR’S NOTE. despite the content warnings, rafe and reader’s relationship is actually the healthiest thing amongst all of this. tooth rotting yearning, fluff and longing is present through and through. ———— rafe is not fully ooc (?). it’s just this is set in season 1 right before he killed peterkin, and i truly believe he’s very fragile through that time period due to his father’s abuse and drug usage. — so this is just how i *honestly* imagine he’ll behave.

tag list still open ! . . .

[hawkebuckley]

[whatsupsonnyboy]

morning | Joseph Quinn

PAIRING: Joseph Quinn x fem!Reader

SUMMARY:  just kind of sex without plot!! you and Joseph like morning sex... who doesn't, right?

wc: 2.1K

warning: smut, mdni!! p in v sex, oral (female receiving) unprotected sex, stablished couple, hungry Joe

a/n: couldn't get this out of my head so, there you go! Hope y'all like it! This is just another os from all of the ones i said i've been writing. It's not an actual series so you can read them without reeding the rest. It's just that they'll belong to the same universe. Anyway, you can find them all here.

requests are open | masterlist 

You opened your eyes slowly, feeling the stiffness in your body begin to fade. You tried to stretch, but you couldn’t—Joe was wrapped around you, holding you close with no intention of letting go. A lazy smile tugged at your lips. You loved waking up like this.

One of his legs was draped over you, as if even in sleep he needed to keep you near. His arm rested heavy around your waist, his body warm and solid against yours. Soft curls tickled the crook of your neck, the scent of his shampoo lingering in the air. You could just barely make out the shape of his lips, slightly parted, his breath slow and steady against your skin. His heartbeat matched yours, a quiet rhythm in the early morning stillness. This—this was the best part of having him home.

You hadn’t wanted to wake him, but resisting the urge to touch him had never been your strong suit. Your fingers threaded through his curls, relishing the way they tangled slightly before springing back into place. He hummed softly, shifting just a little but making no move to release you. Instead, he held you tighter, his face burying even deeper into the curve of your neck, as if clinging to the last remnants of sleep.

Your hand drifted lower, tracing idle patterns along the expanse of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. His muscles tensed slightly, stretching as he stirred awake.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. His eyes remained closed, though he lifted his head just enough for his lips to graze your collarbone.

“It’s still early,” you whispered. “You can sleep a little longer.”

Joe didn’t respond—not with words, anyway. Instead, he shifted, nuzzling against you until his head rested fully on your chest, sighing in contentment.

“Mm, it’d be nice if you let me get up, though,” you laughed softly. Not because you minded being his personal mattress, but because your body was beginning to protest being in the same position for too long.

“What if I don’t want to?” His voice carried a teasing edge now, a hint of something else curling at the edges of his words. His grip around your waist tightened. “You’re mine,” he murmured, lips brushing against your skin, sending a slow shiver down your spine. “And I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

You let out a breathy laugh, already knowing exactly where this was going. And you could feel it—quite literally—against your hip.

Joe had always been the morning type, all warmth and slow, sleepy kisses, his lips pressing lazy, open-mouthed affection across your skin. He liked to mark you in places only the two of you would know, teasing bites that made your breath hitch, his touch lingering, possessive.

And if there was one thing you had learned about Joe, it was that he never started something he didn’t intend to finish.

His hand slipped under your top, finding the soft curve of your breast with practiced ease. His fingers traced slow, deliberate circles around your nipple until it hardened beneath his touch. You couldn’t suppress the quiet moan that escaped your lips, especially when his other hand pressed against the small of your back, urging you closer—letting you feel just how hard he already was, as if you hadn’t noticed.

“I want you,” he rasped against your neck, his breath hot, lips leaving a trail of wet kisses that sent shivers down your spine.

“I can tell,” you teased, your voice breathy as he stole small, teasing kisses from your lips.

Joe chuckled against your mouth before pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were darker now, pupils blown wide with need.

You kissed him then, deeper, greedier, as if you were trying to commit the taste of him to memory—as if even a few days apart could make you forget. He groaned into your mouth, the sound vibrating against your lips, and you pressed your body against his, chasing the heat between you.

But patience had never been his strong suit. He tugged your top over your head in one swift motion, tossing it aside without a second thought. His mouth was on you instantly, his tongue flicking over your hardened nipples, teasing, tasting, leaving you squirming beneath him. His right hand trailed lower, fingers slipping beneath the delicate waistband of your thong.

“Fuck, Joe,” you whined, the sensation of his mouth, his hands—his everything—turning you into a trembling mess beneath him.

He pulled back just enough to smirk at you, lips swollen, breath heavy.

“I love how you sound,” he murmured, his voice thick with hunger.

And then, without another word, he shifted between your legs, settling himself lower. Your chest heaved in anticipation, your body already burning with need.

He didn’t bother taking your underwear off. Instead, he simply pushed the damp lace aside and buried himself in your heat, his mouth hot and desperate against you.

A gasp tore from your throat at the sensation—his tongue, his breath, the way he devoured you like he had been starving for you. Your fingers tangled in his curls, tugging as his pace quickened, each flick of his tongue sending you spiraling.

“But fuck,” he groaned against you, his words vibrating through your skin, making your whole body tremble, “I love how you taste even more.”

You spread your legs wider, giving him all the space he needed, surrendering to the intoxicating pleasure of his mouth on you. Every nerve in your body lit up, shivers coursing through you as he devoured you like he had all the time in the world. No matter how many times he had done this before, he always found a way to make it feel even better—like this time would ruin you more than the last.

Your moans filled the room, mixing with the wet sounds of his tongue working over your clit. He knew exactly what you needed, exactly how to push you closer to the edge.

“Joe—” His name came out in a broken gasp, more of a warning than anything else. You were close, really fucking close.

You felt the curve of his stupid grin against your thigh before his fingers joined his tongue, sliding inside you with a slow, deliberate stretch. Two fingers, moving in perfect sync, curling just right.

Words failed you, lost in the overwhelming sensation, and the only thing that left your lips was a desperate, wrecked moan that sent a shudder through Joe’s body.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “Just let go.”

And you did. Within seconds, you shattered beneath his touch, falling apart on his tongue, his fingers. He groaned as he felt you come undone, as if he could get drunk on the way you trembled for him.

When his eyes finally met yours, you were still shaking, your breath ragged and uneven. He smirked, entirely too pleased with himself, but that look—the one that told you he knew exactly what he had just done to you—only made you crave more.

You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. The moment your tongue slid against his, his cock twitched against your thigh, still painfully hard.

“You’re hungry for more, huh?” he murmured between kisses, his voice thick with amusement and lust.

“Always,” you admitted, nipping at his bottom lip. “I’m fucking starving when it comes to you.”

Without hesitation, you flipped him onto his back, straddling him, your hips rolling against his still-clothed erection. You started trailing kisses down his neck, slow and teasing, leaving a path down to his shoulders.

Joe groaned, a curse slipping from his lips, his hands gripping your hips tight enough to leave bruises—bruises you knew would still be there tomorrow. But fuck, you loved it. You loved how he handled you like he needed you just as much as you needed him.

You stripped him of his boxers, just as you had done with your abandoned thong, tossing them carelessly onto the floor. You were desperate to feel him—completely, exactly as he was. And yet, you didn’t let him slip inside you right away.

Instead, you dragged your dripping center against him, letting the hard length of his shaft slide over your swollen clit. The friction sent electric pulses through your body. He could feel how wet you were, feel your slick coating him as you rocked against him, teasing, tormenting.

“I need to be inside you,” he groaned. It should have been a command, but it came out as a plea—low, rough, edged with hunger.

You wanted to tease him longer, to make him beg for it, but you were just as desperate. Maybe more.

Lifting your hips, you positioned yourself over him, feeling the thick tip of his cock press against your entrance. Slowly, Joe pushed inside, stretching you inch by inch, making you take him. Your moans tangled together, shameless and raw, filling the space between you.

No matter how many times he had been inside you, he always made you feel completely, devastatingly full.

Your hips moved instinctively, finding a slow, deep rhythm, pulling soft, breathy moans from him that matched your pace—controlled at first, almost painfully so. But it didn’t last.

Soon, you picked up the rhythm, rolling your body against him, and his hands gripped your ass tightly, guiding your movements, pressing you down onto him. You kept your eyes locked on him because you loved to watch him like this—lips parted, swollen, his pupils blown wide as he stared at you. He couldn’t take his eyes off your body, the way your breasts bounced with every movement, the way you took him so well.

You wanted to burn this image of him into your mind forever.

The groans spilling from his lips spurred you on, making you rock against him faster, harder, taking him deeper. The friction was dizzying, overwhelming, and the way he met your thrusts—his hips snapping up to meet yours, filling you over and over again—made your vision blur.

“Fuck, Joe…” you whimpered, and he cursed under his breath, gripping you tighter as he thrust into you, deeper, harder.

He answered by meeting your hips with his own, thrusting up into you so deep it knocked the air from your lungs. Your head tilted back, your breath turning ragged, the sound of skin slapping against skin growing louder, filthier.

“Babe,” he choked out, voice strained, his control slipping. You could tell he was close.

So you didn’t stop, chasing the pleasure flooding through you, knowing you were right there with him.

Joe caught on, grabbing your hips, shifting the rhythm so you were grinding against him instead of bouncing, the new angle making his cock press against that perfect, devastating spot inside you. Your mouth fell open, a strangled moan leaving your lips as your entire body tensed. The pressure coiled tight in your belly, spreading like wildfire, consuming you whole.

He felt it.

Felt the way your walls clenched around him, squeezing him, dragging him over the edge right along with you. He groaned your name as he came, spilling into you just as you shattered around him, your legs shaking, your body trembling violently against his.

The room was filled with the sounds of it—heavy breathing, skin against skin, the sharp thud of the headboard hitting the wall as both of you came undone.

And for a moment, nothing else existed but this.

The air in the room was thick, heavy with heat and the scent of sweat and sex. Your body still trembled slightly, your muscles aching in the best possible way as you collapsed against him, your forehead resting on his damp shoulder.

Joe's arms wrapped around you lazily, fingers tracing soft, absentminded circles on your back. His heartbeat was still erratic beneath your cheek, his breath uneven as he let out a satisfied, breathy chuckle.

“Fuck,” he muttered, voice hoarse. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

You smirked, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss against his neck. “Then at least you’ll die happy.”

His chest shook with laughter, and he tightened his hold on you, as if he wasn’t ready to let go just yet. Neither were you.

For a while, neither of you spoke. There was no need. Just the warmth of his skin against yours, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath you.

Then Joe hummed lazily, tilting his head to press a kiss to your temple.

“You up for round two?”

You bit your lip, trying—and failing—not to laugh. “You’re insatiable.”

He smirked, flipping you onto your back in one smooth motion, his body settling comfortably over yours.

“And you love it.”

[megalony]

Safety And Sanctuary

This is a new Eric imagine from A Quiet Place, requested by the lovely @bib200 I hope you like how it turned out.

Any feedback is always lovely.

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Main Masterlist

Summary: On their way to leave the city and find somewhere safer to hide, (Y/n) and Eric run into problems when she goes into labour. And they have to try and find a way to keep their baby quiet in a world of silence.

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Was it pointless? Was this perilous journey they were taking too far fetched for their newfound reality? Was this worth it, or should they just give up now?

So many questions bombarded (Y/n)'s mind as the couple trudged down the seemingly empty street.

Walking had never been so dangerous. (Y/n) never would have thought that something as simple as walking, a task every parent praised their child for acomplishing, would become so frightening in the space of one day. But then again, who ever would have thought that uttering a single sound could cause the end of their life?

The spitting of rain was getting more pronounced and prominent and something about the rain was soothing, as if the world was crying along with them and mourning what was lost.

(Y/n)'s arms bound tighter around her chest and a defiant look crossed her face as she tilted her head back until her neck ached and she was staring up at the weeping sky. Droplets of rain cascaded down onto her face, mixing in with the long since dried tears and the heat consuming her skin from so much panic and confusion.

The bustling streets had never been (Y/n)'s cup of tea. So many people crowding together, pushing, shoving and making crude remarks as each tried to go their own way and move in a hurry. But something about seeing the streets of New York looking so desolate and empty was horrifying.

They didn't know where they were going, not really.

They would probably walk until the sun started to set and they needed to find somewhere to rest their heads and cower in fear for the night and see if they lasted until morning.

Twisting her head to the left, (Y/n) snook a glance over at Eric. It was almost funny how one day could change things so much.

Only yesterday (Y/n) had dragged her fingers through Eric's hair and pulled him down by his tie to give him a kiss of luck as he headed to the office where he worked. He was going to be a lawyer. Not anymore. Now the world had descended into madness and despair, there was no need for lawyers, survival didn't include that role in this new world.

Eric looked like he had been through the wars. His curly hair was disshevelled and array with curls in ever direction, some crimped up, some stood on end and others flattened down near his forehead. His hands were lathered in dust and dirt that was clogged beneath his nails. His face was painted with smoke and grime and those chocolate brown eyes were practically drowning in sorrow.

He hadn't taken off his tie, (Y/n) wasn't quite sure why considering she knew her husband hated to have to wear one. Maybe he thought it would come in handy in an emergency for something. Maybe he wanted to cling to that essence of himself that he was before the world broke out into chaos.

His white and brown striped shirt was now permanently dark beige with dust and patches of dirt smudged into the material. The only part of him that didn't look raggedy was his trousers.

And when (Y/n) glanced down, she found herself smiling despite their situation. Eric wasn't wearing his shoes. He had taken them off before they left the apartment because the heels made a noise and clicked against the pavement when he walked. The city had once been so full of noise that it hadn't dawned on Eric that he made such little, insignificant noises such as the clicking of his shoes or heavy breathing or little sighs now and then. All of which he couldn't do anymore, lest he wanted his life to be cut dramatically short.

So Eric was simply wearing his socks, padding along the pavement like he had lost each and every one of his senses.

When Eric's head angled down in her direction and he caught her staring, a small blush crept up the side of his neck despite the grime layering his skin and he smiled.

(Y/n) was the only consolation Eric had.

If his wife hadn't made it through this ordeal, then Eric wouldn't be standing here right now. He would have thrown himself in the river or stood on the side street and screamed until a creature came and took him. He wouldn't be able to survive in a world like this on his own. He couldn't get through this uncertainty and turmoil if (Y/n) wasn't stood by his side, guiding him and calming him down.

'Okay?'

It was hard to mouth the word and not use his voice or make the tiniest whisper, but it was something they were going to have to get used to now.

When she nodded, Eric wa as careful as he could be, adjusting the bag on his shoulder so it stayed where it was and didn't risk sliding down his arm. Allowing him to reach his right arm out and curve it around (Y/n)'s waist so he could reel her into his side.

His lips and nose meshed into the top of her head against her hair and he tried to take slow, calming breaths as the pair of them slowly weaved onto the road. They both had the same idea, walking on the other side of the desolate road to be under shelter of building scaffolding.

Eric couldn't stop from darting his eyes down to (Y/n) again once they were under shelter and the rain was no longer clinging to his lashes and clogging his eyes. His gaze drifted down to her hands, a sense of nostalgia and paranoia washing over him all at once when (Y/n) started absentmindedly gliding her hand over her stomach while her other arm was wrapped tightly around Eric's waist.

When (Y/n) saw where Eric was staring, she felt shivers coursing down her spine and she came to a slow stop. She leaned to peek towards the road, listening to how loud the rain was battering down against the scaffolding and the pavement. They might just have a tiny bit of leeway here to whisper under the protection of rain, without alerting any creatures that might be lurking nearby.

"Do you think we can do this?" (Y/n) kept her voice as quiet as possible and motioned to the rain when Eric's bewildered eyes widened like he assumed she was trying to get them killed. The rain would cover their voices; it would give them protection.

She watched the way he dragged his hand through his damp hair and he nodded instinctively. Maybe he wasn't sure if he believed they could do this, but he wanted to hope that they could. Eric would delude himself if necessary, but he wouldn't go around thinking the worst and assuming that they couldn't do this.

Or what was the point?

"We have to try." Eric kept his hand on (Y/n)'s waist, trying hard not to dig his fingers too tightly into her flesh and leave indents or bruises but if he wasn't holding her tight he felt like he was going to lose her.

All they could do was try. If they went ahead in this world thinking that nothing was possible and their death was imminent then it most likely would be. But if they tried, if they pushed and did whatever they could to keep their little family alive and find some kind of sanctuary and their own sense of normality back in this world, then that was enough. They had to try and survive.

And Eric couldn't bear the thought of thinking about what would go wrong. He had to delude himself or he would descend into panic.

Why couldn't this strange type of apocalypse have happened years from now or even just a few months from now? Why did it have to happen right in this moment, when (Y/n) was pregnant? Why did the world have to come to a halt when (Y/n) was so close to giving birth? Fate seemed to be against them.

(Y/n) let her cheek rest on Eric's arm as she switched from having her arm around his torso to curl her hand around his arm instead.

"Babies cry, Eric. We can't tell them to cry only when it rains." (Y/n) didn't want to be thinking like this, she didn't want to be the cynical one who looked only on the dark side, but she couldn't help it.

Her due date was next week. If they made it past this week it would only get harder when (Y/n) eventually went into labour and had their baby.

They had been so happy when they found out, they had been so eager to start a family and have a baby together, and now, just as that dream had become visible on the horizon, it was taken away from them.

Bringing up a baby in a world of forced silence and contemplation like this wasn't natural, it wasn't ideal or even likely to happen.

(Y/n) couldn't fathom how they were going to stop their baby from crying once they were born- provided that the birth went well and there was nothing wrong with their baby. She couldn't constantly feed the baby to try and keep them quiet, she couldn't force them to sleep all the time or drug them into a comatose state to keep them alive. Babies cried, it was a natural fact and if they had a fussy baby or their baby developed coelic or some other disorder or illness, they were going to cry and wriggle and make a fuss.

If they had their baby a year or two ago, this would be different. They could teach and learn their child to be quiet, they could make up their own form of sign language and implement it into their child to be silent. They could teach them the dangers and try to bring them up in this silent world. But a baby, that was near impossible in this situation.

"How do we keep a baby quiet without smothering them?"

(Y/n) could feel tears welling up in her eyes when she looked up at Eric and saw how her words had cut through him like a knife. His expression had fallen and his features were changing between blushing rouge and turning a pasty shade of grey.

"Don't say that." Despite the low whisper, there was a snappy tone to his voice that he couldn't hide.

He was in tears just thinking about it. Did (Y/n) think Eric hadn't considered those kind of situations? Did she think he hadn't contemplated the fact that in a dire situation, if a creature was imminent, they could quite possibly smother their baby to death trying to keep them quiet and unheard.

But Eric didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to lose himself to those kind of thoughts because they were harrowing and frightening and he couldn't think about their baby like that.

This was their child, this was the baby they had waited so long to have and meet and hold. And Eric was going to do whatever he had to to keep them and (Y/n) safe. He knew (Y/n) felt the same, he knew she was willing to do whatever they had to in order to protect their baby and try to keep one another alive. But it wasn't going to be easy, thousands of things could happen or go wrong.

"If we get on a boat or near the water, we might not be able to make any noise."

(Y/n) had heard the announcements, the tanoids telling people to get to the water, that boats were sailing and taking people out into the water where these creatures wouldn't venture. But something might happen. These things might evolve or manage to get out onto the water and that was a terrifying thought. They might not be safe even in water.

If they got on a boat or found somewhere to stay near the sea, they might still have to be silent and that posed the same question. How were they going to keep their baby quiet?

"We will, something will happen, somehow we'll do this. We live on a boat in the middle of nowhere, or- or we live under a waterfall, I don't know. But we do this. There have to be other people on those boats and out there with newborns and toddlers, it's not just us."

Eric hoped he was right. He hoped they weren't the only ones who survived this ordeal with children imminent. He was sure that there would be a number of people out there trying to protect their kids, people with babies, mothers leaving the hospital with newborns, trying to keep them safe and alive.

There would be parents and young children on those boats sailing out into the sea. There had to be. And Eric and (Y/n) would soon be one of those couples, going out to sea or hiding somewhere near gushing water, protecting their baby.

"Okay." (Y/n) didn't want to argue and they had already tried to take provisions and talk about what they would do.

If they could get on a boat, then that's what they would do. If they couldn't, they would aim for any desolate place that seemed safe enough to hide in which was near water. They would wait to find other people to evacuate with and escape to somewhere more enclosed and safe. There had to be areas and aspects of the country- the world, even, that would be safe enough for them to live and bring up their child and just survive.

She nuzzled her cheek into Eric's sleeve while he kissed the top of her head and they slowly started to trudge ahead again.

It wasn't like them to walk this slow, even with (Y/n) being nine months pregnant and feeling like her back was aching and her stomach was weighing her forward. They didn't usually walk like they were both crippled, but they had to be quiet.

Eric was trying not to shake the bag on his shoulder or make any kind of sound.

The backpack on (Y/n)'s shoulders was packed with clothes and essentials they would need, anything that might rattle had been wrapped up in their shirts and bottoms to smother any noise. The bag Eric carried wasn't harbouring clothes; it held essentials.

When they decided to take the risk and try to find one of those boats, to get down to the river, they had to pack. They needed clothes, bandages, the first aid box from their apartment, the little things they would have to take with them. And Eric's bag contained just a few of the things they had bought ready for their baby.

He packed nappies, onesies, pacifiers, bottles- they would have to raid any shops they could find for powdered milk if (Y/n) didn't want to breastfeed. And when they left the apartment, they had gone into a desolated chemist a block from what was once their home.

Eric had been as quiet and stealth as possible, raiding the shelves for a pair of sterilised, packaged scissors and a pack of needles and thread for when the baby was born and they would have to cut the cord. He found antiseptic wipes, lots of gauze, bandages, sterilising fluid, and of course he raided the back of the chemist for a variety of strong pain meds. Both for (Y/n) during and after the birth and as a stash in case either of them got injured and needed some pain relief.

They found what they would most likely need, and now they were on their way. Hoping to find any safe space to rest for the night before they continued in the morning to get to the boats or somewhere they could stay which would be safe.

(Y/n) began to glide her thumb up and down the back of Eric's arm while she leaned into his side. It was a relief that silence was something of a comfort to them both. Neither of them were the kind of people who had to fill the silence or felt awkward when no one was speaking; they wouldn't have lasted this long in this new world if that was the case.

The rain cascaded down on them like it was pouring its own sense of sorrow onto them as they headed down the deserted street.

Part of (Y/n) felt like they were being selfish. She knew they weren't, after all, this whole change in the world happened after (Y/n) got pregnant. It wasn't as if they had chosen to have a baby and bring a child into this terror. But it wasn't the world they thought they were bringing their child into.

This wasn't safe anymore. The world had never been perfect, but at least the threats hadn't been creatures from another place. Threats in their old world had been strange people or busy traffic or dark corners. Not predators that could hunt dozens of people at once and kill anything in its path.

But there was nothing they could do about this now except for survive. All they could do was try to survive, try to have this baby and give them a chance.

(Y/n) came out of her dwelling thoughts when she felt Eric's hand shift from her waist to suddenly latch around her upper arm. His grip was fierce and (Y/n) could feel his fingertips digging into her skin harsh enough to leave imprints in his wake.

Her eyes darted up to look at him, wondering why he had stopped walking and grabbed her like that. But Eric's free hand ever so slowly let go of the bag resting on his shoulder and his finger pressed against his lips. The movement would have been heartstopping if it hadn't been for the panic dwelling in Eric's eyes and the movement (Y/n) saw out the corner of her eye.

A creature.

There were creatures- more than one- hovering on the buildings across the road. They were scouring the streets, patrolling for victims, for anything that moved with sound which they could devour.

A subtle trembling set in (Y/n)'s system as she slithered her hand up to remove Eric's hand from her arm so she could tangle their fingers together. Their clammy palms pressed together like suction and when Eric started to move, (Y/n) carefully followed alongside him.

It was clear with each tentative step that Eric took that he wanted to run, he wanted to be fast and stealth, but he couldn't. He couldn't risk making a single sound and risking his family.

Neither of them had any idea where they were heading. They didn't know which direction to go, where would be safe and if there were any other creatures lurking around any corners.

(Y/n) wasn't sure what made her look, but as the pair of them did their strange little speed walk down the street, (Y/n) noticed something.

A church.

It looked like a beacon of hope to (Y/n)'s watering eyes. It was large, the building itself wasn't crumbling or broken or had a caved in roof or busted windows. It was structurally safe, unlike the other buildings in this area; most of the buildings in all of New York will have been destroyed by now. Maybe in the entire country, possibly even the whole world.

A church would be safe. It was a large space with multiple rooms and crevaces for them to stay. It was getting dark out, the daylight was starting to fade and they had to find somewhere safe to stay.

Shifting her free hand, (Y/n) pressed her palm against Eric's shoulder and nudged until he was aiming towards the left rather than straight ahead.

Confusion blared out in his eyes until he realised where she was trying to aim him and a flicker of relief swelled across his face.

A church; that would do as a safe space for now.

***

(Y/n) could feel a headache forming behind her eyes as she slowly trudged up and down in a small line that was beginning to wear a pattern into the stone floor.

She didn't know what to do with herself.

Before this, before all the chaos, whenever (Y/n) felt uncomfortable she would go and lie in the bath. Sometimes she would lie in bed with an old movie or tv show on in the background and a stack of pillows on the bed with her. She couldn't do that anymore. God, was she ever likely to have a bath again? The water would make too much of a noise, and it was near impossible to be silent getting in or out the tub. Bathing in whatever river or stream was nearby was going to be their future now.

Her fingers carded through her hair, brushing the strands out of her eyes as her other hand pressed against her lower back.

She took a moment to look around the church that had long since turned dark and was lit with whatever candles they could find in the basement and in the vacant storage room at the back. There were quite a few people seeking refuge here.

A few elderly people off in one corner. A young family huddled in the corner, fast asleep together despite the terror that awaited them outside. There were a few people dotted about in the pews, catching some sleep, praying, sitting and deliberating what to do. Overall there was less than twenty of them in here altogether but (Y/n) barely noticed their presence with how quiet everyone was becoming.

When her eyes danced across to her husband, a softness dwelled in her eyes and (Y/n) managed a smile.

Eric was laid on one of the pews, arms crossed over his chest and his jacket rolled up beneath his head to serve as a pillow. One leg was hanging off the bench with his foot pressing into the floor to stabilise himself and his other leg was laid out across the pew. He still looked tense, even in his sleep. Frown lines were woven into his temple and his lips were curved into a splintered grimace.

But at least he was getting some rest.

Once this baby was born, neither of them were going to be getting anymore sleep. They would have to take it in turns, one of them constantly watching over the baby to stop any cries before they happened. They were going to be exhausted and panicked and frightened and worn down, and (Y/n) had no idea how they were going to do any of this. If only this mayhem had happened a few months or years down the line instead of right now.

Turning her head, (Y/n) continued to walk up and down the small space she had acquired of about six feet that she kept pacing to give her something to do when sitting down didn't feel comfortable or possible anymore.

The one good thing about this silent situation was that no one was bothering to go near one another. If someone was ill or looked in need of help, then sure, people would filter round and try to do what they could. But without talking, people were simply staying in their acquired bubbles of space.

No one was trying to strike up a conversation with (Y/n), they weren't trying to talk using sign or writing on paper or charades. No one was bothering with her or Eric and that was a relief.

The headache raging behind (Y/n)'s eyes amplified ten fold and she fought back the urge to groan as her fingers pressed deeper into her temple in a vain attempt to fight off the uneasy feeling. But she could feel shockwaves coursing through her body when her stomach tightened.

Her head angled down as if in slow motion and her jaw hung loose when she felt a dampness between her thighs and trickling down her leggings.

Oh no.

This is what (Y/n) had been constantly panicking about since this whole event shook the world. She had been hoping that she would go into labour sometime next week on or after her due date. By then they might have found somewhere to stay, somewhere safe or even find themselves on a boat where they would at least be a bit more protected and shielded from these creatures.

Having a baby here, still in the centre of New York city, huddled in a church, wasn't (Y/n)'s ideal plan. But it looked like she didn't have much of a choice.

Her lips rolled together and her arms coiled around her waist, resting on her bump as she shuffled over towards the pew where Eric was laid asleep, unaware of the turmoil (Y/n) was about to unleash on him.

It took some effort for (Y/n) to manage to go down on her knees and she held her breath to try and regulate her system and control the rising panic that was coursing through her in waves. Once she was knelt on the stone floor that felt as cold as sitting on a frozen lake, (Y/n) moved one arm to rest on the bench and gently glided her other hand up and down Eric's chest.

She nudged the buttons on his shirt and moved his tie that was becoming looser and looser as the hours passed. She didn't want to frighten him awake and cause him to make any noise.

His body jolted and his head shot up, but he stayed as silent as the dead and his wide brown eyes darted to the right to look over at her.

One hand clamped down on the back of the pew and Eric moved his other hand to rummage up and down his face to try and brighten himself up and bring him back to his senses. He forced a gentle smile as he looked at his wife, but it didn't last long when he saw that she was biting down on her lower lip so harshly that she was drawing blood beneath her teeth.

His eyes narrowed and he leaned closer to (Y/n) until their noses were almost touching. His lips pursed and he shook his head to try and get her to mime something or move and point out what was wrong. He couldn't see anyone else in the church panicking so he figured no creatures were lurking to try and devour them. Yet.

Confusion stayed plastered across Eric's face, mingling with the worry lines still present but he stayed compliant when (Y/n) reached out for his hand. She moved his hand near her stomach before she seemed to realise that it wasn't going to give Eric much insight. So she pressed his palm down against her damp thigh instead.

Horror was the only thing (Y/n) could see swirling in her husband's eyes which expanded twice their usual size and his jaw dropped, parting those plump pink lips. Eric tried to shake his head but the look in (Y/n)'s eyes told him this wasn't a false alarm or a joke.

Her water had broken. She was going into labour.

She watched with panicked eyes as Eric carefully sat up and swung his legs over so he was sitting upright. But (Y/n) was taken by surprise when Eric leaned forward. One hand cupped the back of her head while the other held her arm, but it was the feeling of his lips merging with her temple which made (Y/n)'s heart race.

She could feel each shaky breath Eric took and how he tried his very best not to make a single sound, despite the very overwhelming need to cry or scream or do both at once.

They stayed like that for a while, with Eric hunched forward to curl around her and (Y/n)'s hands clutching his hips, holding him just as tightly as he was holding her. (Y/n) could feel Eric shifting his weight from his heels to his toes, clearly trying to concentrate on something so he didn't fall into a state of panicked despair.

And she stayed clinging to him when he changed stance so his left hand was cupping the back of her neck but his right hand was reaching out for something beside him on the bench. His cheek meshed against the top of her head, nuzzling into her hair while he found the notebook and pencil they had brought and began to scrawl a note.

'It's okay, we're safe here. I'll look after you.'

His words were comforting when he turned the page round so (Y/n) could see, and she nodded against him and clung to him that little bit tighter.

(Y/n) had never been worried about the pain. It didn't do well to worry about the excruciating pain she was going to be feeling in a matter of hours. She would do anything she had to in order to stay quiet, the pain wasn't the main issue. It was what would happen afterwards, how they would silence their baby without hurting or smothering them. It was how they would move forward with a newborn who needed to be silent which was worrying (Y/n) the most.

She turned to rest her cheek against Eric's thigh, nuzzling into him as she curved her arms tighter around his torso until her hands were splayed out on his back. Clinging to him and being close like this was comforting. It would help for now.

They had a long night ahead of them.

***

This was not how Eric imagined this wonderous, magical moment in his life playing out.

Not for one moment since (Y/n) became pregnant did Eric imagine it would be happening in this way. In a damp church that no one dared sigh in because churches were known to echo with high ceilings and little to no curtains. He didn't imagine to be his wife's birth partner, coach and midwife rolled into one.

He didn't think they would be doing this alone with no help and no way of even calling a midwife for assistance. Eric didn't even have his phone, he couldn't Google articles that might coach him through how to do this. They were completely and utterly alone with nowhere else to go.

Eric dreamt of this moment. He dreamt of going to hospital, of holding (Y/n)'s hand and crying and how it would feel to sit beside her and finally be able to hold their child in his arms. He dreamed of calling his parents in London and telling them the good news and whether he had a son or a daughter.

He didn't dare think about his parents; Eric had no way of knowing if the rest of his family back home were dead or alive, whether they were fighting to survive or if they had already been killed. And he wasn't likely to ever find out or go back home again. Home was going to have an entirely new meaning now.

Tilting his head down, Eric smothered his lips against the top of (Y/n)'s head, inhaling the very faint scent of her raspberry shampoo which Eric guessed neither of them would be using very often anymore.

His elbows were pinned into (Y/n)'s waist, their hands were interlocked together in front of them and Eric had his chest moulded over (Y/n)'s back like he was a coat or a second layer of skin, trying to protect and shield her form the rest of the world.

Every now and then he brushed his thumbs across the back of her hands but he was trying hard to concentrate on being quiet and not humming. Whenever they would hug or dance in their apartment, Eric was usually the one to start humming and giving them their very own background music. Humming was something that he used to do all the time, it calmed him down and gave him a sense of focus. He couldn't do that anymore.

They had been pacing for a while now, Eric wasn't sure how long, he would roughly guess at about an hour because both of them had gone stiff sitting down for so long. And there wasn't much they could do to idle away the time.

Everyone else was trying to sleep or be on watch at the windows in case any creatures roamed the streets at night. Everyone inside the church had calmed down and fooled themselves into a false sense of security in here.

But Eric was on red alert. There was a countdown happening in the back of his mind to the moment when this whole situation would turn South and they would have to get to water, to safety, fast to ensure they and their baby survived.

When (Y/n)'s hands tightened around his and she stopped walking, Eric paused behind her, curving himself around her as he figured she was experiencing another contraction.

He watched as she moved their entwined hands to grab the tie that Eric had taken off earlier and draped around her own neck like some kind of slim scarf or strange piece of jewellery. He watched (Y/n) pull on the tie until it was between her teeth and she chomped down so hard he was sure she would fray and split the fabric.

That was why he had given it to her. He knew that being silent in such an ordeal with such pain was going to be incredibly hard for his wife, and Eric hated that there was very little he could do about that. So he gave her his tie to bite down on and clench between her teeth in the vain hope that it might give her some small sense of relief.

And whenever (Y/n) told him the pain was too much, Eric would give her some of the medication he had tucked away in his bag from raiding the chemist earlier in the day. He had found some powerful drugs in that chemist for this exact situation.

As carefully as he could, Eric moved their entwined hands so his left arm was bound around (Y/n)'s waist and his right hand moved to cup her chin. He tilted her head towards the right so he could lean around and pepper a few tender kisses to her cheek.

When the contraction wore off, Eric moved to hover his lips over (Y/n)'s ear which caused shivers to jolt through her system and vibrate into him.

"Are you doing okay?" Eric spoke at the lowest possible decimal he could until his words were nothing but a breath of air that could hardly be heard by (Y/n), let alone anyone else in the church or out in the world.

He watched the way (Y/n) released the tie so it hung limp around her neck again and rolled her lips together. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back against his shoulder after she managed to nod. She was doing as well as she could in this situation.

Their conjoined hands moved so (Y/n) could point to the pews and Eric nodded into her shoulder and neck.

She wanted to sit down now, lest Eric wanted to stand and hold her weight up for her. They had been standing for long enough and (Y/n) wasn't sure she held the energy to stay upright any longer.

She felt much better when Eric helped ease her back down on the bench and when he sat beside her, he curved his right arm around her waist and kept their left hands tangled together on her lap. Eric was relieved to sit down too. He was drained and he needed to stock up on his energy and hope adrenaline would see him through for when the baby was born.

For a few moments, Eric tilted his head down and attached his lips to (Y/n)'s shoulder. They stayed like that until Eric lifted his head when (Y/n) bowed hers. Her chin tucked down into her neck and Eric took to kissing the back of her head to try and help keep her calm.

Eric glanced his eyes around the open space while his right hand began to feather up and down (Y/n)'s waist. He tried to take in the sight of the other people seeking refuge here, wondering what their lives had been like before this mess ensnared them all in here together. Wondering if they were missing family members, if they were looking for people or if they were simply on an aimless mission like them.

He stopped pondering those kind of thoughts when he noticed an older gentleman sat on the opposite bench from them on the other side of the aisle was staring at them.

He looked to be in his fifties if Eric had to guess. Salt and pepper hair, a beard that was all fading to grey, but it was his piercing eyes that set Eric on edge.

The man was glaring at them with a look that Eric couldn't decipher, those beady eyes set upon the couple while the man's lips and nose were scrunched up into a confused sort of frown.

Eric stared over at him, keeping his gaze as he waited for the man to make some kind of action or mouth something to signal why he was staring at them so intently. Did he want something? Was something wrong? Did he think he recognised them from somewhere?

Suddenly, the man broke their gaze and hunched forward to reach for a scrap of paper and a bit of chalk.

'In labour?'

Unease set in Eric's features which hardened to stone, but he nodded all the same. There was no point denying it. There was a couple at the back of the church near the hymn board who kept looking at them and the woman had such a sympathetic smile that made Eric want to cry. She could see that (Y/n) was in labour and Eric guessed that if they could speak without fear of being detected, she would have tried to strike up a conversation with them or even sat with them to help.

He watched the gentleman start scribbling again, but when he held the page up for Eric to see, his chest hardened and anger seethed through every vessel in his body.

'Get out!'

(Y/n) glanced from Eric to the man sitting across from them, suddenly wondering what had caused her husband to start to breathe like he was stopping himself from turning into the Hulk. His chest was tense and practically heaving and his nostrils were flaring, but there was a maddening look in his eyes that (Y/n) had never seen before. And his eyes were locked on the man across from them.

The words on the page made (Y/n)'s heart seize up and caused her chest to convulse.

Her head turned to look behind her towards Eric, eyes wide and body shaking as a bewildered expression flooded her face. Now she was frightened- no, she was petrified.

If that man was telling them to leave, then what would stop everyone else in here from doing the same?

What if they started a silent uproar? What if all of the couples and families and desolate strangers in here tried to get them to leave? They could combine into one big gang, they could crowd and push and shove until Eric and (Y/n) were ushered out onto the street. And what would the couple do then?

(Y/n) couldn't have this baby in the street, they had to be somewhere safe, somewhere enclosed and indoors and with a bit of protection.

But no one else had seemed disgruntled. They had all seen that (Y/n) was pregnant, there was no missing that little piece of information and although the couple gained sympathetic looks, no one seemed to object. They couldn't help that they were having a baby while this apocalypse had occurred. It was fate. They needed help, not to be shunned out.

Moving his arm from resting on the back of the bench, Eric brushed his fingers against (Y/n)'s cheek and tilted her head so she was looking at him rather than that silly old fool. He attached his lips to her cheek and inched closer to her, huddling her close into his chest.

They didn't have to look and see that fool try to argue with them. They had every right to be in here and Eric wouldn't let that man upset (Y/n) when she was clearly distressed enough as it was.

For a few minutes, (Y/n) closed her eyes and leaned her cheek against Eric's chest. She let go of his hand in favour of holding his thigh and she felt each breath he took fanning against her hair. They both did their best to stay tangled together and resist the urge to look across at the man that Eric felt a great deal of distain for even though he had barely interacted with him and knew nothing about him.

But if he was willing to try and sacrifice a pregnant woman out on the street for his own survival, then Eric didn't want to know him. No one would be able to survive in this world on their own, people needed a community, help, they would need others to help get them through this. He wasn't going to last very long out there on his own.

Eric tried, he really tried not to look, but when the man began to wave his arms and flap his hands out to get his attention, he gave in. Eric gave in and turned to see what he wanted now. He was holding up another page.

'You're putting us all in danger. Babies make noise, that thing will kill us all.'

Outrage roared to life in Eric's chest that began to heave and blunder again. He had a sickening feeling that the man across from them was referring to the baby, not one of the creatures outside and that thought was riling up every one of Eric's otherwise passive nerves in his body.

If that man didn't like his odds being around a baby then he could go and find somewhere else to stay. There were kids in here, older people, young people. Any one of them could cough or belch or fall or sneeze and make a noise, no one was exempt. Yes, a baby was more of a risk than everyone else but that didn't mean that it was fair to cast them out.

Shakes rattled through Eric and his hands clenched into fists as he pushed up from the bench. But before he took one step, he faltered when (Y/n) deadlocked both hands around his arm and yanked his arm towards her chest.

She could see that he wanted to scream and shout and rage but it wasn't going to do them any good. The rage inside Eric started to simmer down and mingle with heartache when he looked down at his wife. She was frightened enough as it was, starting a silent argument or a fight wasn't going to make the situation any better.

With a curt nod of his head, Eric sank back down on the bench and grabbed the notebook and pencil that they had brought along with them. He flipped to a clean page and hastily began to scrawl his response to the vile man who he now hated with vengeance.

'You were coughing earlier, that could kill us all.'

The menacing tone inside Eric's head might just have been projected into the man's mind, for he shrank back in his seat as if he had been slapped. And Eric triumphed inwardly while he began to write another message while he had the chance and the words rattling around in his head.

'Our baby deserves a chance. Church is sanctuary. You can't play God in here, don't like it, move to new haven.'

This church wasn't a forever solution for any of them. None of them were likely to stay here and live out their days in this church. They would all move on, they would find somewhere safer, somewhere better where they could live. Or they would each keep moving from place to place, hopelessly wandering for the rest of their (probably short) lives.

Everyone in this church would venture out into the streets, into the world, sooner or later. They would need to go for supplies, for food and water and clothing and bandages and medicines and to try and find somewhere to wash and get clean. No one was hybernating in here for the rest of their lives.

Eric and (Y/n) being here wasn't making much of a difference and if this man didn't like them being here then he could go and find a new place for himself. Why should they be the ones to leave when right now they hadn't done anything to put anyone in jeopardy?

'Baby is a big risk.'

The man had a deep frown engraved into his features, but his anger began to dwindle little by little when he looked from Eric to (Y/n). Agony was displayed on her face and she was mouthing 'please'. Whether she was asking him to relent in arguing or to let them stay, he couldn't be sure.

But he seemed to wince and visibly cringe, his expression turning hollow when he watched (Y/n) motion to her stomach before she tried to point towards the doors.

She couldn't give birth outside. It would be suicide.

Was he really going to try and evict them when he didn't have that right? Did he truly want them to find some deserted building with no source of heat or light or supplies and face giving birth in those conditions? Or did he want (Y/n) to sit out on the street to have her baby and become a beacon for these creatures to come and snatch them up?

The man wouldn't meet (Y/n)'s gaze, but he looked towards Eric when he waved another piece of paper towards him.

'Creature comes, I'll scream and distract to protect them.'

Eric would sacrifice himself if necessary. He would make a noise and divert the creatures to him if it would give (Y/n) and their baby a chance at getting away and being alive. Eric would make a noise and give everyone in this church the time to escape. He would do anything he had to for his family.

And those words seemed to silence the elder man because he nodded. For how could he argue with that?

Tears welled up in (Y/n)'s eyes when she watched Eric slide the notepad down next to him on the bench and she caught sight of what he had written. It wouldn't come to that. She wouldn't allow it. (Y/n) wouldn't be able to get through this world without Eric, she couldn't try and keep their baby alive without him.

Eric's arms went right back to cocooning around (Y/n) when another contraction hit and they moulded together like they were both trying to smother their cries. He began to sway them from side to side, wishing and praying that he could take the pain and endure it for her, but there was nothing he could do.

His arms went rigid around (Y/n)'s frame and his chest tensed and tightened when he watched a woman walk towards them. She had smiled kindly at them earlier and kept giving them sympathetic looks, but Eric didn't trust anyone in here. Not after the strange, infuriating conversation he'd just had with that man.

This woman could be coming over to gently try and coax them to leave, to tell them that staying wouldn't be in their best interests and for everyone's sake, they should go. But something about the softness in her eyes told Eric that she wasn't going to do that.

Her eyes softened as she gazed upon them and she crouched down beside them, gently patting (Y/n)'s knee in the process.

The couple watched her with uncertainty and intrigue and Eric nodded when she motioned to the pencil and notepad, politely asking if she could write them a message.

'Basement/ catacombs, go down. Thick walls underground, safer for baby.'

Once she laid the notepad on (Y/n)'s lap, she twisted to point behind her towards the small doorway in the left hand corner at the back of the church.

There was a basement beneath them down the stairs behind that door. The walls were made of old, thick stone and if all the doors were closed, the couple would effectively be sectioned off down there. It would be safer for them. The baby might just be able to make whimpers and little cries without drawing the attention of the creatures. And in the very least, they would be hidden away and in private without anyone around to leer or stare or try and intervene.

It was their best chance.

Relief swarmed through Eric's body which almost flagged against (Y/n) who wavered and couldn't stop the tears from trickling down her face. This lady was giving them a chance. She was trying to help them, she wasn't going to have a go at them or argue or try and usher them out onto the street.

When the woman stood up again and held her hands out in front of her, (Y/n) took the hint. She shakily took the elder woman's hands while she felt Eric holding onto her waist as he stood up with her, moving to be behind her with his chest curved around her back just in case she stumbled or a contraction hit and she needed some support.

Eric took his time putting both their backpacks on each shoulder, not wanting to rattle any of the medication or scissors in case he made a sound. And the three of them walked in tandem, the stranger leading the way with a clear understanding of the church that she must have frequented a lot before today to know the layout like she did.

She walked backwards, ushering the couple along with her and started to guide them down the winding stone steps that were frozen cold against all of their feet. Considering none of them were wearing shoes and were only in their socks.

They took it slow, trying their best not to slip or trip or get too far ahead of themselves. Once they were back on solid ground, the lady opened an old wooden door with precision, but she didn't open it all the way which Eric guessed was in case the hinges creaked.

(Y/n) wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but this was far better. A large expansive room rather like a cellar with boxes upon boxes of relics, books, donation boxes no longer in use. And candles. A whole bunch of candles. Just what they needed when the room was basked in darkness, with the only slither of light coming from the stairway out in the hall.

While the lady helped (Y/n) to sit down on a blanket she found in the corner, Eric carefully set the bags down and found the lighter he had stuffed in there. He made quick work of lighting as many candles as he could and dotted them around the rather cold room. But the cool air was soothing, both of them were burning up with panic so this temperature would help them both.

It seemed and felt safe enough to whisper down here, so the woman took her chances. "You should be okay to make some small noise down here, I'll make sure all the doors are closed. If you need anything, come find me. Good luck."

"Thank you." Sincerity flooded Eric's voice that was on the verge of breaking from both the tears clogging his eyes and the fact that he was still whispering which made his throat feel strange.

Once the doors were silently closed and the couple were encased in their own sense of privacy, (Y/n) slouched back against the wall and looked across at Eric who was sat cross legged near her feet.

"This is it." There was no turning back now.

***

Everything was laid out ready from the blanket beside Eric's thigh to the scissors, still packaged and sterilised. Needle and thread was laid out in preparation, a packet of painkillers was opened next to a bottle of water and sterilising fluid was set out in the corner.

Everything was ready and prepared, except for them.

(Y/n) had done her best to stay quiet. She had writhed from side to side, bit down on Eric's tie so harshly she had torn through the fabric and left teeth marks woven into the thread. She bit on her tongue, held her breath until she almost passed out, scraped her knuckles against the stone floor until they started to shred and bleed. She did everything in her power to only let out the quietest moans and whimpers possible.

All while watching every emotion possible cross Eric's face in a blunder. He had gone from panicked to excited to turmoil and then unfiltered horror and anxiety, all in a circle that kept going round and around.

But now it was happening. There was no going back, no second guessing themselves or their vague plan and there was nothing they could do anymore but push forward and hope for the best.

She heard Eric's quiet murmur of "Nearly there," and the bewilderment in his voice as he grabbed the blanket and laid it over his hands that were now in between (Y/n)'s legs in preparation.

He inched closer, wide eyes bubbling with tears and excitement and panic as his knees scraped against the floor and his feet fidgeted behind him. Eric pressed his chest down into his knees and leaned in closer until each breath he took made his chest ache and push down against his thighs.

"That's it, push again sweetheart."

Eric found that he himself could barely breathe when his hands started to curve around their baby. God, he hoped they would be okay and he wouldn't have to try and clear their airways or check for a pulse. He hoped they wouldn't start screaming immediately or be too loud.

Please don't be a fussy baby! Please be content and soothed immediately!

"It- it's a girl, s-she's here."

Trembling took over Eric's system almost as bad as how (Y/n) was shaking back and forth against the wall. Their baby was here. He was holding their daughter. Their long-awaited baby was here, in the midst of this changing, horrifying world.

Stars sparkled before (Y/n)'s eyes and she let her head drop back against the wall as her legs shakily moved and her heels slid down against the stone floor until her legs were splayed out on either side of Eric's thighs. Caging him between her legs like he had been caught in a trap.

Her hands pressed down into the floor to try and prop herself up and ragged, heaving breaths left her lips as the acute pain switched to thunderous pulses and shockwaves instead.

(Y/n) couldn't tear her eyes away from Eric, despite how she could barely see him properly. She tried to clear her fuzzy vision and watch her husband who moved with agility and haste.

She wasn't quite sure what he was fumbling around to try and do, not until the moment their daughter began to whimper. As soon as one noise left her lips, Eric moved her and (Y/n) was stunned. He had undone the buttons on his rather dirty, messed up shirt which was now hanging off his shoulders, exposing his chest and abdomen.

He curled the blanket around their daughter before quickly pressing her into his bare chest. His lips smothered the top of her head and he began to hush her, trying to keep her as close as possible without smothering her. And the way he leant forward and curled around her, embracing her fully, made (Y/n)'s heart melt.

He was trying skin contact. He was trying to get their baby to sense him and recognise that she was safe. He wanted her to mellow and settle and this was the quickest way he could think to do it.

His hands cradled the back of her head and her bum and he started rocking ever so slightly while he felt each whimper his daughter mewled into his warm chest. And the moment she stopped, Eric froze like a block of ice and his nose nudged against her head, fearing for a dreaded moment that he may have hurt or even suffocated her.

But the feeling of her hand bashing against his chest and her lips puckering and moving against his chest made Eric's lips curve into a wide, breathless smile.

She had settled. He'd done it. She wasn't crying yet.

(Y/n) slouched her shoulders back against the wall so she could lift her hands from the floor and reach out when Eric shuffled closer to her side. He tried his best not to move too much or too far, knowing the cord was still connected. And when he cautiously lowered their daughter from his chest, (Y/n) moved her own shirt so she could take his place and have their daughter curled up into her own chest this time.

"She's here," Those words seemed to be the only ones Eric could fathom at the moment as his hand enveloped over (Y/n)'s and his other hand cupped the back of her head so he could lean down and kiss her.

He would cut the cord in a little while, that could wait a minute or two. Right now, he needed his heart rate to settle and to have his girls wrapped up in his arms. His lips moved to attach to (Y/n)'s cheek, feeling each deep breath she took fan against his throat as he leaned into and around her like a blanket cocooning around his girls.

They had done it. They had gotten through labour and brought their daughter safely into the world without posing a risk or drawing the creatures towards them.

But the hard part wasn't over yet; it had only just begun.

[kingsteve-more-like-dadsteve]

Yall already knew I was gonna say this but Im watching A Quiet Place: Day One with Joseph Quinn. Obviously yall know I love him, but also you’re telling me to see him as he is but also AS A MAN WHO ISNT AFRAID TO CRY AND BE SCARED?!

The Subway scene bro? Mans having a panic attack? Hey that’s my babygirl

Hey, I need to be put down. I need to hug and kiss this man while he cries about being scared to die